Walk Upon the Waves
by Jase Shadowstar
Summary: The pirate crew of Seigaku pirate ship is a famed hunter of the seven seas of Kateri. Locked in a constant battle with other crews and the royal navy, news has reached all the ports of a crystal that grants the holder power over wind and sea. Setting sail
1. Chapter 1 Who Are You?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Prince of Tennis (sigh) but I do at least get to lay claim to the plot and the rest of the world.

**Summary:** The pirate crew of Seigaku pirate ship is a famed hunter of the seven seas of Kateri. Locked in a constant battle with other crews and the royal navy, news has reached all the ports of a crystal that grants the holder power over wind and sea. Setting sail from all the kingdoms, sailors and pirates alike embark upon a dangerous quest through storm, sorcery, and sea monsters to claim this treasure as their own.

**Warnings:** Alternate Universe (AU), maybe later shonen ai (slash), violence

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Walk Upon the Waves 

By Shakira Glass

**Chapter 1** **Who Are You?**

Howling like a wounded beast, the wind tore at his ragged garments like a rabid wolf, lashing the rain into his face and blinding him with its icy spray. It was late afternoon, but not so much as a single ray of sunshine could be seen through the heavy, black clouds that obscured the horizon, streaked by occasional flashes of golden lightning.

Stumbling as a carriage dashed past him, soaking him through from the water churned up by the whirling wheels, the boy bit back the shivers that wracked his slender body, walking onward with stubborn determination. Yet despite his obstinate strength, his every muscle ached and each step grew harder than the last as though a great, leaden weight had settled upon his slim shoulders and refused to be dislodged. The weariness beset his mind like a warm cloud, lulling and soothing despite the cold eating into the marrow of his bones.

Staggering against the building, the boy stared blearily ahead at the bright streetlamps wavering in his vision as though seen through a wall of water. He made an effort to place one foot in front of the other, but his knees buckled and his legs gave.

As he collapsed and the darkness rose up to engulf his him, his last conscious thought was an exhausted, almost desperate question.

_Is this the end then . . . Am I going to die here? _

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"Beat that!" A red-haired young man slapped his hand down on the table, a gleam of triumph in his large, catlike eyes.

His companion smiled calmly, laying down his cards apologetically. "Sorry, Eiji. I think I've won again."

The acrobat otherwise known as Kikumaru Eiji gaped open-mouthed at the cards. "Again? Not fair! You must have cheated, Fuji. No one wins that many times in a row!"

Fuji chuckled lightly. "I'm just lucky, I guess."

"Hey!" The black-haired youth that had been standing beside their table scowled. "You guys aren't listening!"

"All right, all right!" Eiji covered his ears. "What were you saying, Momo? Something about drunkards?"

"_Dragons_," he repeated, emphasizing the word meaningfully. "They say that one of the navy ships arrived back this morning captured a dragon."

"What!?" The redhead all but leapt out of his chair as though the seat cushion had electrocuted him. "Nya! Are you serious? But that's impossible! I thought they'd all died out centuries ago!"

A menacing hiss cut through the tirade and three pairs of eyes turned towards the teen seated beside the crackling fireplace, his green bandana a streak of cool color against the red brick of the mantelpiece. "Would the two of you buffoons keep it down?"

Momoshiro growled, fisting his hands before him. "What did you call me?"

Sitting back in his chair, Fuji watched as the argument escalated.

A dragon . . . That could spell trouble—if it were true of course. Still, the ship's master magician was not one to let such details pass unexamined. After all, nothing was impossible. He had his crew to consider, especially after their captain had retired to his homeland on account of injury. Until Tezuke recovered, it was his responsibility to help the temporary captain keep their ship intact.

If the navy had found a dragon after all this time, they could end up finally locating the Sierra Jewel, granting them ultimate mastery over the seas. Guarded by the ancient race of sea dragons, people had given up the search since the last one was rumored to have been killed off the eastern shores of Ranth.

His head jerking up like a startled deer, Eiji turned to squint at the door of the small common room. "Did you hear that?"

Ceasing in their struggle to strangle one another, Momo and Kaidoh turned simultaneously in the direction of the door, falling silent as they listened. Fuji had heard it too.

"Do you think Oishi's back?" the acrobat asked in a loud whisper.

Kaidoh hissed, shaking his head. "He has a key."

Gulping, Momo stood and walked towards the door, his fingers trembling with nerves as he reached to unlock it. Though not perhaps the brightest bulb in their collection, no one could blame him for cowardice. In one swift motion, he yanked the door apart, simultaneously drawing his sword from its heavy sheath at his waist.

He gasped, freezing in mid motion.

"What is it?" Eiji asked, bouncing up and down with impatience. If it was the city police, they would have to make a run for it. Pirates weren't exactly welcomed with open arms. "Who is it? Is it the patrol? Nya! Come on, I can't wait!"

Unable to find the words, Momo stepped aside and the redhead halted, staring in astonishment.

Sprawled upon the doorstep, his face turned half into the light spilling out into the rain-slick street, was a pale boy. Emerald black bangs fell across his closed eyes, and everything from his hair to his plain, tattered garments was soaked through.

Crouching down beside the prone figure, Eiji examined him carefully. "I think he's still alive. Nya, we'd better get him inside. He'll catch his death in this storm!"

Momoshiro started to help the older youth pick the boy up, but stopped, shocked. Slits of blue flashed as Fuji opened his eyes in surprise.

The boy's arms, from the elbow to the wrist, were covered with lacerations. The skin of his neck and ankles were chaffed raw. And a thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of his moth, a thin stream of brilliant crimson like liquid rubies.

Placing his hand on Momo's shoulder, Fuji stated quietly, "Let's get him into that spare room."

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Oishi, being the kind soul that he was, had been aghast at the boy's condition when he returned. He had washed and bandaged the wounds with the help of his crew and they had left the boy asleep in the back room.

Finishing his supper quickly, Fuji excused himself and slipped away from the kitchen table. Heading back past the common room, he pushed the door ajar and slipped inside, padding silently over to the bed.

"There's something strange about you," he murmured under his breath, gazing down at their slumbering guest.

Catching sight of a glimpse of gold, Fuji's hand snaked out to tug on the thin, golden chain peeping out from beneath the collar of the boy's coat. A pendant slipped free of the cloth, set with a large emerald, iridescent in the lamplight.

The boy shifted and golden eyes opened a slit. The moment the gaze focused on Fuji, he jerked up and scrambled back, clutching the pendant to his chest and glaring.

"Those are some strange wounds you have," Fuji continued, pulling up a stool and all the while watching the boy's reactions carefully.

When no reply or explanation was forthcoming, the magician continued. "We found you on our doorstep. Not the best place to be in a rainstorm, wouldn't you agree?"

Still nothing. Every muscle in the boy's body was tense as though he were poised to strike or flee.

"You could at least favor us with a name," he commented finally. "Something to call you by."

The boy looked suspiciously at him for several more moments before replying, fierce, golden eyes never wavering. "Ryoma. Just Ryoma."

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"Sir, we've found them."

Ex-pirate Mizuki Hajime peered up from the maps spread across the table and smiled. "Good."

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AN: Thanks for reading and please review.


	2. Chapter 2 Running

**AN: Thanks to all reviewers. Hope you liked the story so far. **

Responses:

firecat79: ….We shall see.

Peachcandy: Umm, there's more to the story….

Viridian: Eh, I'll try, but I apologize beforehand if anything in later chapters offends you…

To all other reviewers: Thank you very much for your interest. It is very encouraging.

Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.

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**Chapter 2: **

**Running**

Kamio Akira shielded his eyes against the cold, salty spray as the deck of the small ship rocked beneath him. The rough linen sail billowed as a gust of wind hit him, tugging at the flaps of his black vest and sweeping through his deep red locks. He had stolen the narrow, sturdy vessel from the navy base where he had been spying, but they had caught on to him and forced him to flee. It was about time he returned to his crew with his report at any rate.

As the speed demon turned his attention to setting the ship on course for the cave-riddled shores of the island where his companions had been hiding out, his mind drifted back to the boy he had helped escape from the base before he left himself. The boy with the emerald hair and unusual, golden eyes.

He wondered what had become of him. He hoped he had found somewhere safe to stay. Once his job was done, he promised himself that he would go looking for him and find out.

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"They've found us!"

Eiji's excited and frightened voice snapped through the entire house like a whiplash, shattering the early morning calm. All but bouncing off the walls, his large eyes were sparkling with worry and impatience. "Get up! We have to go! Now! Nyaaa! They'll catch us! They're already on their way here!"

"What's all the shouting about?" Momo asked groggily, stumbling into the common room. "Who's coming?"

The acrobat clucked his tongue. "The navy! The police! Nya, we have to hurry!"

Just then, their came a rapid pounding upon the front door and a rough voice was yelling. "In the name of the peace, we demand you open this door at once!"

Swearing loudly, Momo spun and dashed back into his room to grab his sword. There was no time to pack. They would have to leave whatever they could not grab. With a pang of regret, he recalled all the apples they had found in the pantry.

Seizing the fire iron from the rack beside the fireplace, Kaidoh hammed the metal rod into either side of the doorframe.

"That'll buy us approximately three seconds," Inui stated calmly, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I suggest we depart."

They started for the back door just as the front one caved in, splintering as an axe was wrenched from the wood.

"I'll hold them off," Fuji offered before turning and making a swift gesture in the air.

There was a flash of light and the soldiers that had spilled into the common room stumbled back, screaming as they clutched at their eyes.

"What about me?" Ryoma asked, following him from the back room.

"Come with us," Eiji urged, hurrying him after the others. "We could always do with another teammate."

Teammate. The word tasted strange on his tongue as he stumbled after his new—companions? There was no time to ponder this new development. Bullets rang past their ears as they sprinted down the alley that ran behind the house. Their pursuers' momentary blindness had worn off and they were back on their tails.

Whatever happened, Ryoma did not want to be caught. Again.

The street outside was in total chaos. Policemen shouted for order as mothers fled indoors, herding their children before them.

"We'll just blend in," Eiji whispered under his breath, straightening and trying to appear casual.

"There they are! Quick, they're escaping!"

Sighing, the redhead grabbed their new companion and bounded ahead. "Or not."

Down the street they sprinted—and nearly ran headlong into a navel officer's broad chest. The man pulled back his lips in a snarl and they dove for it.

"This way!" Oishi shouted above the ruckus, running for the wooden fence separating the public from the merchant docks.

A dart nicked Momo's heel as he reached the top of the pile of old barrels that acted as a sort of staircase up the fence and he yelped, tumbling head first out of sight. Following Eiji up the makeshift ramp, Ryoma paused at the top to send the barrels rolling with a heave before dropping down to rejoin his new crew.

"Go, Ochibi!" the redhead cheered, clapping him on the back.

Momo opened his mouth, but his sentence turned into a gasp as an arrow buried itself in the ground at his feet. Almost immediately following, a full volley began to whistle down around them, the lethal stakes slicing through clothing and missing serious injuries by a fraction of they ducked.

Yanking an arrow from where it had pinned his leggings to the dry earth, Kaidoh hissed in irritation, taking off towards the old ship that sat between two, luxurious galleys. Swinging up the rope that hung down from the side of the ship, he hastened to raise the anchor as the others clambered aboard. Oishi was the last to ascend and pulled the rope up after him.

"Hold on," Inui muttered, steering the ship out into the bay. "We're not out of the hot water just yet."

This ominous statement was punctuated by an explosion of water as a flaming missile struck the surf to the right of the prow.

"Nya! They're shooting at us!"

The air filled with the acrid scent of smoke as other missiles followed the first, only just missing the main mast and plunging into the ocean accompanied by sheets of icy spray. His rectangular spectacles glinting in the sunlight as he stared intently ahead, his hands upon the steering wheel, Inui frowned. "At this range, there is a seventy-five percent chance that one of those missiles will set us on fire. In the case that that should happen, we have a fifty percent chance of making it out of this alive, and no chance at all of saving the ship."

Momo groaned. "You know, sometimes, there are things that we really don't want to know. At least then we can hope."

Gazing back towards the docks where the navy had begun to load their cannons, Ryoma frowned skeptically. There was something strange about the ship, but that was not his current concern. "How do you expect to outrun anything with this decrepit vessel? The boards look like they're practically coming apart."

Eiji grinned mysteriously. "That's where you're wrong."

Stepping up beside them, Fuji tapped the railing with one finger. The entire ship shimmered and seemed to fade away, leaving a sleek, sturdy vessel built of mahogany. The sails that had previously been ragged and patched now shone gold-touched white in the sunlight, stark against the black flag that flew proud and ominous above it all, stamped with the crossed bones and grinning skull of the greatest menace to modern society ever to sail the seas: pirates.

A slight smirk found its way onto Ryoma's face and he crossed his arms. "Mada mada dane."

Behind them, the last shells hit the waves, erupting violently and filling the air with tiny droplets like misted crystal. Finally, as the ship sailed smoothly out into the open sea, Momo turned to raise an eyebrow at Eiji. "Ochibi?"

"Yeah." The acrobat grinned, ruffling the dark green hair of their newest addition. "He's shorter than Fuji!"

Batting his hand away, Ryoma scowled.

Hiding his smile behind his hand, Fuji laughed softly. "Welcome aboard."

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Far beneath the roiling tides, deep within the heart of the ocean's depths, hovering at the center of a crystal chamber, a gemstone as clear as water shone with a brilliance that flickered as though seen through a wall of vapor. Pulsing as though in time with the beating of a heart, tiny rainbows reflected amidst the stalactites and stalagmites, radiant and yet eerie.

After all these years in hiding, the Guardian had been awakened.

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TBC

AN: Thank you for reading and please review!


	3. Chapter 3 The Color of Hazard

AN: Thanks to all reviewers. It's encouraging.

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**Chapter 3**

**The Color of Hazard**

Fuji Syusuke, resident magician and infamous member of the Seigaku crew, the masters of the Eastern Seas, was a curious person by nature. They had put in at port earlier that week for the sake of provisions. Having been eating fish and select seaweeds for three days before that, Momoshiro and Eiji had been on the verge of going on strike. Not that they had had anywhere to go other than into the sea, Fuji reflected, but Oishi had insisted. At the very least, it was vital that they replenish their supply of fresh water. The water that Fuji created out of the salty sea waves could be drunk by no one other than himself. The spicey flavor inevitably added to rather than detracting from the need for spring water.

He hadn't done it on purpose, really, he hadn't. It wasn't his fault that he liked spicy foods.

But that was beside the point.

What they had not expected to receive while on land was the addition of a new member to their crew.

"Looking for something?"

The figure perched upon the rail started, falling backwards from the thin support with a surprised gasp. Fuji caught him before he could hit the deck and startled, golden eyes stared up at him for a moment before the boy scrambled away, scowling.

He moved as one hunted, always alert and tense like someone who was accustomed to being tricked. The dark green tunic and black leggings he had selected from their cargo hold only served to accent his oddly pale skin and intense, golden glare.

Chuckling softly, Fuji leaned casually against the railing where the boy had been but a moment before.

"Were you looking for something?" he repeated, glancing down in toe the water, flecks of foam sloshing against the sides of the vessel as it cut through the surf.

Regarding him warily for a moment longer, the boy shook his head and looked away.

To say the least, Fuji was intrigued. _What is he hiding from, I wonder? Or more importantly, what is he hiding? _

As soon as he could, Ryoma escaped the magician's presence on the upper deck, swinging himself easily down hatch and descending the ladder quickly. The narrow hallway at the bottom was deserted for the moment. Leaning against the wall beside the door to his tiny room, he closed his eyes, fighting the dizziness that swept over him. Grasping at the pendant that lay hidden beneath his tunic, he took several deep breaths, waiting for the spasm to pass. He could sense the ocean all around him, uncountable phantoms of water stretching far below him, immovable and ancient, and it soothed him.

When the pain had gone, Ryoma stumbled into his room and shut the door, bolting it securely behind him before sitting down on the bed and pulling the pendant free of the fabric. The emerald lay sparkling in his palm, mocking his weakness. He growled, stuffing it back under his shirt. Damn those navy soldiers and that forsaken pirate crew before them. What had they fed him? Poison?

Dropping back on the cot, he pulled the blanket over his shoulder and curled up on his side. Closing his eyes, he concentrated, groping for the power he knew was there waiting to replenish his exhausted strength, but there was nothing, just a slippery, magical barrier like a glass prison around his mind.

With a sigh, Ryoma rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling of wooden planks. Maybe he was just tired. Heaven knows all the running over the past few months had worn him out.

Running. That was all he seemed to be doing of late, running from the wind and the waves and the people who rode them, pirates and navy alike. The lacerations across his back still stung to some degree—not enough to impair his movement but just enough to be irritating—and his head ached from the batter of the wind and the rain. But the bed was warm enough if nothing compared to the lazy lagoon he'd awakened in all those months ago.

Well, better get some sleep, he supposed. The last thought in his mind as he drifted into an uneasy sleep was, how in the world was he going to get off this ship?

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The smooth, black surface hummed beneath his boots as Mizuki stepped aboard, surveying the vessel carefully. Sleek and small, the ship was built for speed, the sparkling, enchanted nets draped about its transparent gray sails like clouds of silver and woven mist that shrouded it in an elusive, flickering aura. Most remarkable, however, was the fact that the entire ship seemed to have been made of glass.

"And you're telling me this is seaworthy?" he asked incredulously, tapping the polished black surface beneath his feet with a toe. "It's not going to shatter into a million pieces the moment we meet a wave of any substance?"

The sailor glanced at the captain's badge on the navy officer's pristine, black-violet uniform and snapped out a smart salute. "Yes, sir. It's the newest stealth model in the service, fitted out with the best spells our mages can offer. It's been in testing for the past year but it's finally ready to go."

"And what is it supposed to run on?" The captain raised his eyebrows at the netted sails.

"The nets don't interfere with the sails." The sailor grinned at his superior's obvious interest, proud to be a member of the _Medusa's_ first crew. "Those nets are specially developed for the capture and restraint of magical beasts."

"Is that right?" Shading his eyes, Mizuki ran his gaze over the silvery nets once more with sharpened curiosity. The escape of his last catch was still eating at him and he could hardly wait to begin the chase once more. And of course, there was always that damned magician. His fists clenched and he ground his teeth as that perpetually smiling face flashed through his mind. He always seemed to be stealing things out from right under Mizuki's nose. _But not this time, _he promised the horizon silently. _Not this time…. _

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"Nya! Who's cooking tonight?" Eiji bounced into the long, narrow room that served as the crew's dining hall and dropped onto the bench beside Oishi. "I'm hungry!"

Glancing up from a map of the nearby regions, the black-haired man frowned uncertainly, casting an evasive glance at the closed kitchen door. "Well…. I think dinner's going to be served soon. Meanwhile, why don't you go get the others? Tell Momo he can take a break from the crow's nest for now. Fuji says we don't have anything to worry about for a good hour."

The redhead didn't seem to notice his best friend's unease, dashing out of the room with a gleeful shout. As he disappeared down the hall, the first dish appeared on the table—a vast bowl of steamed and salted vegetables from their time in port. With a sigh, Oishi folded his map and tucked it into his coat pocket, trying his best to ignore the red mixed in with the selection of greenery. By the time the first of the crew began to arrive, the table was set for seven and all the food was laid out in a colorful array.

Chattering incessantly, Eiji guided a still drowsy Ryoma to the seat between him and Momoshiro. "The food smells wonderful, doesn't it, Ochibi? We usually only eat two meals a day, sometimes with a snack in between. But we never know when we can re-supply. Every dawn and evening, some of us are assigned to fishing duty. I'll show you tomorrow." Abruptly, he paused and scanned the other occupants of the room. Something was wrong. "Where's Fuji?"

The implications of this were lost on Momo as he snatched up his fork and all but attacked a plate of fresh fish. "Ah, who cares? The more for us."

Just as Momo moved to place the fish in his mouth, the kitchen door opened at last and said magician stepped into the room, a soup ladle still grasped in his hand. Everyone froze. The fish meat dropped from Momo's fork as his bottom jaw hit the table.

Everyone's eyes turned towards the platters of food, frozen in the act of reaching for their dinner—everyone except Ryoma. His golden eyes still half closed in sleep, he picked up his fork and stabbed a of the miniature rice ball. Five pairs of fearful eyes followed the morsel's journey to his mouth while Fuji tilted his head to one side, curious. The rice ball disappeared and their newest and unsuspecting member chewed…. And swallowed. Eyes closed, Ryoma reached calmly for his water glass, downed it, then reached for Momo's and drank that down too. That done, he reached nonchalantly for the fish.

Even Fuji's eyes were open in surprise.

"Ochibi?" Eiji ventured worriedly. "Are you all right?"

Ryoma blinked sleepily, glancing up at the faces turned towards him in confusion. "Uh?"

Momo exploded. "Oi, Echizen! What'd you drink all my water for? Don't just keep eating and ignore me! Haven't you got any taste buds at all? No one keeps eats Fuji's cooking after the first bite without serious preparation and long years of endurance."

Kaidoh hissed in agreement. Suddenly, the violet-eyed youth stopped ranting and turned slowly to stare at Fuji. The magician had raised a slender hand to cover his mouth and his shoulders were trembling.

Fuji Syusuke was laughing.

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He and his men had come upon the beast mostly out of chance. Marking the progress of the speeding black vessel on the maps spread out before him, Mizuki narrowed his eyes at the spot marked with an X in the middle of the Trickster's Sea through which they were traveling now. It had been storming, the shrieking, serpentine creature thrashing in the foaming waves as it tore through their weighted nets, blood streaking its beautiful, emerald scales. It had completely torn apart the ships they'd been called to assist before they'd managed to subdue it, smashed their sturdy boards to mere splinters.

But it wasn't the lives lost in that catastrophe that bothered the captain now. The men and women had been honored and immortalized upon the obsidian obelisks before the navy headquarters. As far as he was concerned, that meant it was all in the past. No, what bothered him now was the equipment that had been lost to the dark, raging waters, irreplaceable equipment worth tens of millions of gold pieces. The sorcery required to forge such equipment had been lost eons ago and it had only been their great fortune that Mizuki had been able to procure five of the seven sets historians estimated to still be in existence in the world. Thanks to the accident, that number had now been reduced to three.

"Captain." One of the sailors appeared in the doorway, clearing his throat. "We're getting close, but something seems wrong. The weather patterns and the currents—we've never seen anything like it."

Pushing back his stool, Mizuki stood, snapping the maps shut with a brisk flick of his wrist. "It's as I suspected. Slow down the ship and wait for further orders. I've got to take a look at this myself."

"Sir," the soldier ventured cautiously. "There's something unnatural about everything out there. I'm not sure it'd be best for you to be heading up right this minute."

The captain brushed past him disdainfully. "I am a magician, soldier. I know what I'm doing."

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It was the middle of the night that the warning came, a loud shout from Eiji whose turn it was to perform lookout duty. Ryoma woke with the nervously excited cry ringing in his ears and immediately rolled onto his side, fighting the urge to empty the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Something very wrong was approaching, something that made his skin crawl and his stomach lurch in protest. Scrambling out of bed, he darted into the hallway and up the ladder through the open hatch as the doors of the other rooms slammed open and confused talk cut over the lash of the waves.

"What is it?" Momo had his saber drawn as he vaulted onto the deck, staring around wildly. "Are we under attack?"

"Look! Look!" Eiji swung down the ropes from the crow's nest to the deck, pointing at something in the water.

Leaning over the rail, Inui adjusted his glasses, squinting intently into the foaming water. A faintly glowing bit of debri was clunking softly against the side of the ship. Despite the strong currents and gusting winds, the object drifted gently as though uncaring of the wrath of nature. "It appears to be something off a smashed vessel. I can see bits of wood and some broken planks going by. Shall I fish it up for a closer look?"

"Well, seeing as we all know how interested you are," Fuji murmured. "Feel free. It appears rather…. interesting. I wonder what could have happened to the other ship? We might have to be wary. I haven't seen a ship totally destroyed like that since the last mage battles up north."

Unhooking a bundle of netting from the side of the ship, Inui and Kaidoh cast it down into the water. The object was heavier than it looked and it took all their strength to haul it aboard. By the time it clunked onto the wooden boards, both were panting heavily.

Unable to wait, Eiji fell upon the bundle, pulling the net loose and tossing it aside to reveal an oblong box. Running his fingers along the cold, smooth surface, the redhead frowned. "But it's metal! How can it be made of metal, nya? It was floating!"

Even as he exclaimed in surprise, Inui was kneeling down beside him, feeling for some type of clasp or keyhole. But there didn't seem to be any. Muttering, he adjusted his glasses once more and frowned. "Stand back." As Eiji scrambled away, he let both his hands hover just above the securely melded lid and concentrated. For a moment, the box glowed white then—nothing.

Watching from beside the ship's rail, Ryoma breathed a mental sigh of relief. A light cough came from behind him and Fuji moved past him, standing before the metal container and gazing calculatingly down at it. A ghostly blue aura flickered around him as he passed his hand over the metal box and at once, runes began to trace themselves in sapphire light upon the lid. His eyes were open but narrowed, gleaming with the same icy, vibrant blue of the chaotic seas.

"Oi, Ochibi! We should get back." A hand closed on his wrist and Eiji hauled him back several yards to where the rest of their crew had gathered to watch. Wiping a hand across his brow, the redhead grinned nervously. "It's been a long time since I've seen Fuji casting spells that required this much power. For the future, when he does, you want to be as far away as possible."

"Is he good?"

"Good?" Momo clapped a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head in mock pity. "You mean you haven't heard of him? He's good all right, excellent actually. He's the Master of the Eastern Seas, but most people know him as the Devil's Magician." Shuddering earnestly, he added with a grimace, "Though if you ask me, I'd say he's the Devil Incarnate." 

A tinge of worry tingled up his spine and Ryoma focused his attention upon the mage once more. All the symbols that had been forged into the metal sides of the object had been set aglow and any minute now, the box might be opened. As the sapphire light faded, he could have sworn he heard the soft click of the lock disengaging. But instead of stooping to open it, Fuji just stood for a long moment, staring down at it. Then abruptly he turned and smiled ruefully at them.

"I'm afraid I haven't had much luck either. I'll take it down to the cargo hold, if that's all right with all of you." That said, he picked up the metal contraption as though it weighed nothing and descended the ladder into the depths of the ship.

Eiji gaped. "Fuji couldn't do it? Nya, I wonder what's in it? It must be something really, really, really valuable!"

Valuable. The corners of Ryoma's mouth quirked upward in a dry, sardonic smile. The knot in his stomach had loosened somewhat but he could still feel the nausea waiting just beyond the edges of his consciousness to engulf him. There was no doubt that the contents of the container were valuable. One thing was for sure. He had to get rid of that box.

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AN: I'm sorry if that chapter wasn't as eventful. Still, thanks for reading and please review.


	4. Chapter 4 The Devil's Magician

AN: Thanks a lot for reviewing (and reading).

I try hard not to start plotlines that I don't intend to end. But I do tend to like a good dose of different story lines.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis, but I do own the story, plots and all. That's some consolation at least.

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Walk Upon the Waves

By Shakira Glass

Chapter 4: The Devil's Magician 

The storm outside was picking up and the ship gave a hefty lurch as he stepped away from his room, sending him stumbling down the narrow hallway. Grabbing hold of the brass railing set into the wall, Ryoma steadied himself and held perfectly still, listening. Hearing nothing out of the ordinary, he turned his catlike golden eyes back towards the cargo hold door. He could sense the box within, its cold aura radiating just beyond the shields that surrounded his own like a blazing, hungry fire thirsting to consume and destroy him. The sensation made his skin crawl but he simply couldn't leave it on board. It would drive him crazy if it didn't sap all the life out of him first.

If Fuji found out how to open it, the consequences could be dire. The power contained within it was tainted with millennia of bloodshed and anguish, and it was endowed with a twisted life of its own. He could already feel the wrongness of it seeping into the air and the water around them, sinking its claws into nature and contorting it. His stomach did a back flip and he swallowed the urge to reacquaint himself with his supper. He was never eating that revolting, green, foreign delicacy Fuji called wasabi ever again.

Steeling himself, Ryoma darted forward, pushed the door ajar, and slipped inside. The problem was—he wasn't alone.

From the middle of the storage room, Fuji glanced up at him, pale sapphire eyes gleaming in the darkness. Before him on the table secured to the floor was the box.

It was open.

Ryoma stared. "You—you…." He trailed off, robbed of his powers of speech, his mind grinding to an incomprehensible halt.

"I noticed your reaction earlier and decided not to open it there in front of the crew." Lifting what appeared to be a polished spearhead from the softly glowing chest, the magician ran his fingers along the unearthly metal. "Dragon slaying equipment, isn't it? I haven't seen these since we hid in the historical museum on Arl Island. And the one they had was stolen shortly after we left." Catching the shorter youth's startled, golden stare, he asked gently, "Mind telling me what this all has to do with you?"

-------------------------------------

Leaping out into the shallows, Kamio seized the edge of the boat and dragged it up onto the dry sand above the tide line. The slim stretch of rocky beach was quiet, scattered with broken shells and driftwood. He and his crewmates had often stopped in the region in better days and he knew the area like the back of his hand. If they ever got separated, they had promised that they'd make their way back here to wait. If the others didn't show up within a fortnight, they were to collect who they could and move on.

Running a hand through his longish, crimson locks, Kamio started up the beach, hoping he wasn't going to find the shelters empty. That battle with the navy had been intense and the storm that had destroyed their ship could not have been natural. He almost couldn't breathe as he rounded the last outcropping of rock and peered over the shrubs that marked the start of the little vegetation that survived on the place. He could make out the wooden huts not far away and, if he wasn't mistaken, there was a fire burning in the clearing and the aroma of roasting fish tickled his nostrils. Relieved but still uncertain, the redhead broke into a run.

Throwing open the rags that covered the door to the largest hut, Kamio froze, his jaw nearly hitting the floor. Who were all these—_people_? He didn't recognized a single one of them! The chattering ceased and faces turned towards him, confused to find a redheaded pirate in salt-crusted and worn garments framed by sunlight in the doorway.

"Oi, Ibu. There's a newcomer!"

Ibu? Swiveling in the direction of the shout, Kamio finally picked out a familiar, blue-haired figure making his way through the crowd. Not sure whether to be relieved or confused, he settled for pure indignation. "Shinji! What the hell is going on here? Where is everybody?"

Pausing in front of him, his friend surveyed the room in bewilderment. "What do you mean where is everybody? We are surrounded by people. Heaven knows I've never seen so many people in one place at the same time in my life."

"All right, all right!" Frustrated, Kamio waved his hands in front of his face to make him stop. "Stop avoiding the question. You know what I'm talking about. Where's the captain and everybody—the rest of our crewmates?"

For a moment, his friend was uncharacteristically silent. Then he looked away with a deep sigh. "I haven't seen any of them. I can only assume that they didn't bake it."

Kamio's shoulders slumped and he suddenly felt very tired. He supposed he had suspected this would be the case for a while now but it hadn't stopped him from at least hoping. Even though if it weren't for the navy capturing him, he probably would have perished in those treacherous waters as well. Nodding to the rest of the room whose occupants had once again picked up their interrupted conversations, he asked, "So who are all these people?"

"Drifters left after the storm, other pirates and fishermen alike. Ours wasn't the only ship destroyed, far from it. Strange that so many ships can be lost in one storm, isn't it? But I supposed that's what storms do to people like us. I gathered them up when I found them on our island."

"So they're like us then," Kamio mused, watching as a man reshuffled a deck of poker cards and began dealing them. "They've all lost their crews."

"So what now?"

"I don't know." Kamio exhaled slowly, suddenly feeling as though a heavy weight had settled onto his shoulders. With the captain gone, he supposed he would have to start handling the tough decisions as the second in command.

"come on." Shinji grabbed him by the shoulder and began to steer him out of the hut and across the clearing back towards the beach. "I found something while hunting for driftwood the other day. I think you should see it."

Once on the sandy path, he led them down to the edge of the water, following it left until they came to a jumble of rocks and dried seaweed. Crouching down amidst the cracked boulders, Shinji brushed aside the sand that had gathered in the cracks and dug his fingers into the crevice. "It must have washed ashore during a storm or something. There are a lot of storms around this region, aren't there—like hat one we were in when the navy caught up with us. That had to be the largest storm I've ever seen, not at all like something natural—quite unnatural actually if you get down to it."

Accustomed to his companion's ramblings, Kamio tuned him out, stooping to help him heave the boulders aside. The rocks fell into the sands with a thud and he gasped, brushing his dark red hair back so that he could examine the object more closely. "What is it?"

Shinji shrugged, sitting back on his heels and cocking his head to one side as he regarded the slab of shiny obsidian. Engraved in gold upon it were columns upon columns of run es. "It looks like a prophecy stone. I saw something like it in a book once and I think that was what it was called. Seers use them to record their visions and that sort of thing. People with the Sight can use the stone to See what the seer Saw. Pity we don't have the right Gifts, but we can read the runes well enough."

"So what does it say?"

His friend paused as though recollecting his thoughts before answering with uncharacteristic slowness and clarity. "I haven't been able to decipher all of it, but as far as I can gather, it says that all the powers of the world shall collide with the awakening of the Heart of the Sea. The dead will know no peace until the Symphony of Blood has been silenced and the last dragon will die on a night when the moon turns red and the oceans are torn by the rage of the Untamed."

Kamio shivered, frowning. "I don't like the sound of that at all. While I was at the navy base, I heard them talking about a dragon too. Though I thought all dragons had died out years ago, if indeed they ever existed at all."

Shinji shrugged. "Do you doubt it? I mean, we have magicians and sea serpents, rocs and even mermaids—or so I've heard. So why not dragons?"

"I suppose you're right." Straightening with a sigh, Kamio shaded his eyes and peered intently at the horizon where sea met sky. "We should get moving in case I was followed. Gather everyone who's willing to come with us and what provisions we can carry."

"Where will we go?"

"I've been thinking…." Turning his back on the crashing waves, he grinned crookedly. "The navy and this Heart of the Sea business. It could be useful if we knew more about it all. Whatever they want out of all this, it can't be good for us. The more well armed with information we are the better. And you remember that prisoner I told you about that was with me at the base? I wonder if he's doing all right. I get the feeling he's entangled in all this too."

"Suits me." Starting back down the beach, Shinji nodded vaguely to himself. "New beginnings, new journeys, it never seems like anything ends before we start something new. Or maybe nothing's ever new and everything's just part of the same old adventure. Who knows?"

-----------------------------------

Ryoma flinched instinctively. There was no malice in the magician's voice but in his experience, such questions and related inquiries never heralded anything good. Taking a step back, he froze as Fuji's stare intensified, pinning him in the doorway. _If you're going through hell_, he reminded himself sardonically, _keep on going. Don't slow down and if you're scared, don't show it_.

Was he scared? Ryoma wasn't sure. His attention was drawn inexorably back to the spearhead in Fuji's hands. He could still remember in all too much detail the scorching pain of its sharpened point.

"Is that a no?" Fuji sounded vaguely disappointed as he lay the weapon back in its case and shut the lid. "Saa, ah well. Maybe another time?"

Before Ryoma could reply, the ship was struck by a wave that almost rolled it over onto its side. Shouting broke out overhead as people tumbled from their beds. Gritting his teeth, he took a determined step forward towards the open box. "We've got to get ride of it—now."

He was interrupted by another wave that sent the ship careening. Ryoma stumbled and a startled Fuji reached out to grab his arm before he could be hurtled into the wall. The moment his fingers latched around his younger companion's arm, he saw it as though a curtain of mist had been drawn aside. A slowly spinning whirlpool of power surrounded the chest—or more precisely, the weapons inside. Lines of sickly green power reached out through the walls of the cargo hold into the ocean, seething with a wild energy that made his stomach turn over backwards.

"Ryoma, what is this?" he breathed in a combination of shock and awe, but the youth did not answer. Jerking free from him, the boy ran for the door, away from the seeping fog of emerald iridescence. But just as his hand touched the doorknob, a resounded crack split the air.

All Fuji saw before the waves crashed in around them was a wide, terrified pair of golden eyes. Then Ryoma was in the water and the ribbons of sickly green light snaked towards him at once as though scenting their prey. His hand grasped at the emerald pendant around his neck, but before he could do anything the ribbons had surrounded him, searing into his skin. He tried to scream and choked on the salty water as it filled his mouth, biting and cold.

Thrashing, he doubled over. Everything was going hazy and Ryoma cursed at the injuries left over from his confrontation with the navy. If he hadn't been wounded, he might have been able to escape this watery hell before the power of it bound him. But it was too late for what ifs; his consciousness was slipping away fast. The last thing he registered before the darkness swallowed him was a pair of arms wrapping around his waist and hauling him towards the surface.

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AN: Thanks for reading and please review.


	5. Chapter 5 Something Has to Give

AN: Thanks a lot for reviewing (and reading). It's rather encouraging really.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis, but I do own the story, plots and all. That's some consolation at least.

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Walk Upon the Waves

Chapter 5: Something Has to Give 

When the first sliver of white sand appeared above the foaming crests, Fuji shoved away his exhaustion, energy pouring back into his freezing limbs from heaven only knew where. Other than the struggling young man in his arms, he'd lost sight of all the rest of the crew. Still, they were all fairly strong swimmers and if the current had carried him this far, chances were they would be headed in the same direction if they hadn't already beaten him to the shore. So shifting his grip on Ryoma, Fuji locked his gaze on the sliver of land and started kicking determinedly for safety.

Ryoma was barely conscious when the magician deposited him upon the sand and sank down beside him, breathing heavily. His body was in agony where the tainted sorcery had burned into his skin, the new lacerations searing like ribbons of fire and ice. His head throbbed and his throat was raw from swallowing so much of the corrupt seawater. With what strength he had left, Ryoma curling up on his side and struggled to breathe. He would be lucky if all this didn't kill him. That sardonic thought in mind, he blacked out.

Scanning the skyline once more for any signs of their companions, Fuji frowned at the approaching storm clouds. If they didn't move soon it would be upon them, and it didn't look as though Ryoma could take another drenching by that odd, greenish light that clung to the depths of the dark clouds.

Closing his eyes, Fuji threw his awareness out in expanding circles across the landscape until he located a cave not too far away but still above the tide line. Staggering to his feet, he scooped up his companion and made his way across the dunes

The cave was smaller than he would have liked and a little damp to boot, but people marooned from a shipwreck hardly had the luxury of choice. Setting Ryoma down on the soft sand that covered the cave floor, he summoned a fire and banished the water from his clothes, gathering it into a shining sphere and sending it floating back towards the sea. He would have done the same for his companion but he was afraid his spells would mix badly with whatever was already ailing the boy. The last thing the green-haired youth needed was more magic in his system.

Settling back, Fuji coaxed up a small fire between them, frowning as he stared into it. He would have to start looking for the others, help them if he could, though everyone in the crew was an excellent swimmer. If he had gotten both himself and Ryoma ashore without any problems, he was certain the others would have found their ways to safety as well. First, he had to attend to his companion's wounds.

-------------------------------------------

"Captain, sir!"

Tearing himself away from his contemplations of the map, Mizuki scowled. "This had better be good. Come in and make it quick."

The door swung open and a sailor poked his head in cautiously. "There's a vessel approaching us from the west."

Mizuki got out of his chair, his brow furrowed. "In this weather? Wasn't it storming just now?"

"Well… Yes, sir."

Cursing, Mizuki hurried out of the room and up onto the decks. Snatching the telescope from a nearby soldier, he raised it to his eye and squinted. He spotted the vessel almost at once, though in truth it hardly warranted the name. It was a raft—a collection of logs, rope, and sailcloth—and it was fast approaching. "Is the man mad?" Mizuki muttered, adjusting the focus on the telescope. "A _raft _in this weather? He's lucky it hasn't smashed his miserable excuse of a ship to smithereens!" But that wasn't all. The raft was heading straight for them. "Someone get a lantern."

It wasn't long before the raft drew up alongside the black ship and a sailor shone a lantern down onto it. The man kneeling upon the craft waved up at them, crimson eyes gleaming in the yellow glow. "Pardon me, captain, but I've lost my way and need a place to stay. Would you be so kind as to allow me to shelter on your vessel until the storm has passed? As payment, I may be of some assistance to you in your search."

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Mizuki raised the lantern higher. "Oh? And who might you be?"

Smiling slightly, the man stood, balancing easily upon the rocking raft. The light that pooled around him seemed to disappear the moment it touched him, absorbed by his black, mage's robes. Waving at the storm, he spoke with sly relish, "Peculiar storm, isn't it?"

"Just answer my question or we'll move on and leave you here to drown."

In no hurry, the mage swept the captain a deep bow. "You may know me as Kirihara."

-------------------------------------------------------

Fuji was shocked at the extent of the damage. It was like the night they had first found the youth only worse. Blood seeped through Ryoma's garments even though the clothes themselves seemed unharmed, staining the dark green fabric a sticky black. On top of that, the youth was burning up. Hovering over him, Fuji attepted a quick healing spell but the magic seemed to have no effect whatsoever, sliding away from the youth like water across glass walls.

It looked like he would have to do this the old-fashioned way.

"Hold on," he muttered, though his patient couldn't hear him. Getting up, he hurried outside. If he could just get some seawater back into the cave, he could freshen it with a spell and clean the wounds. Searching around on the sands, he pulled a plank of driftwood from a dune and murmured a quick incantation. The wood glowed and softened, taking on the consistency of clay. Molding the now malleable substance into a rough bucket, Fuji finished the spell and started down towards the incoming tides.

Halfway towards the wet sand however, a sound behind him halted him in his tracks. He turned just in time to see a small figure stumble out of the cave he had just left and stagger down the beach. "Ryoma?"

A ray of moonlight struck the youth's face and Fuji saw that the golden eyes that stared blankly out from beneath half-closed lids were hazed and far away.

All Ryoma could think about was the agony—he had to get away, had to stop it before it devoured him whole. But he couldn't see a thing through the fog clouding his mind and the roar of waves was crashing through his skull in discordant symphonies of chaos. Delirious with the pain, he forced his aching body to move, half running and half collapsing down the hilly expanse of sand. He had to get into the water.

Fuji started towards him, but the boy was several steps ahead of him. By the time he reached him, Ryoma had collapsed in the shallows. The magician crouched and was about to pick him up then stopped.

Something strange was happening to Ryoma. Under the moonlight that slanted through the clouds, he was glowing faintly with a flickering, silver light. And as the waves lapped at his battered body, his wounds began to fade as though the water was carrying it away, washing them clean. Fuji opened his eyes in amazement, staring intently as the last traces of the lacerations that had scarred the slender form vanished without a trace. The storm had dispersed a while ago and the water that slipped around the youth was clear, unmarked by the sickly green glow of corruption.

Without a word, Fuji scooped his fully healed companion out of the shallows and started back towards the cave. In his mind, all the pieces of the puzzle were just starting to fall into place.

----------------------------

Ryoma woke slowly to the crackling of a fire and the play of warm light against his face. Blinking the blurriness from his eyes, he sat up slowly and looked around at the small cave, lit in shades of orange and amber by the flames.

"I see you're awake." A pair of intense blue eyes studied him from across the fire before vanishing into the magician's usual smile. "Feeling better?"

Was he imagining it or was there something different about that smile? Ryoma wondered. This smile, unlike the lighthearted façade before, was edged with seriousness. Trying not to show his unease, Ryoma nodded.

"Good. If you're hungry, there's fish wrapped in the seaweed to your left." Resting his chin in his hands, the magician continued to scrutinize him as he reached for the parcel. "How about we play a little game? A trade of secrets."

Ryoma paused with the roasted fish halfway to his mouth, eyeing him suspiciously. His stomach was growling in protest but he suddenly wasn't hungry anymore. "What kind of secrets?" He didn't like the sound of that at all.

But Fuji was still smiling. "We'll take turns asking each other questions. I'll start. Answer my question truthfully and you can ask a question of me."

"And why should I answer?"

"No reason." Sapphire eyes glinted in the firelight. "But I can tell you're being hunted. If you want my help, we're going to have to have at least some degree of understanding. Treat it as a thank you for keeping you from drowning during the storm."

"I don't trust you."

"Saa, that's a pity. If you don't trust me after all this, who are you going to trust?"

Trust. Ryoma felt like choking on the word. He hadn't been able to trust anyone since he had woken up in this strange era where everyone and everything seemed to be hunting him. But his body was still weak and he was in no condition to fight this mysterious mage. Still, "And if I lie?"

"I'll know."

Ryoma said nothing. Somehow, he could not help but believe him.

Fuji took his silence as assent and took the chance to ask his first question. "Where are you from?"

That was easy enough. Ryoma took a bite of his fish and chewed it slowly, delaying his answer as long as he could, but there was only so long a bite could last. "Ardalys."

"Ardalys," Fuji repeated, rolling the word around on his tongue as though savoring all the answers it held. "That city sank beneath the ocean decades ago. The last of the dragons went down with it supposedly, ne?"

Ryoma took a swig from the water bowl he discovered by his knee and set his half eaten fish in front of him. "It's my turn. Why are you so interested?"

"Saa, to be honest, I don't know." Resting his chin in his hands, Fuji rested his elbows on his knees and gazed keenly across the fire at him. "You—intrigue me. I have never met a dragon before."

Ryoma flinched, darting a quick look at the cave mouth.

"No need to run," Fuji assured him gently. "I've suspected since we brought you in. That emerald around your neck—I believe it's called a Key Stone? It was used to channel power in the past, mined in deep underwater caves and used by various mystical beasts to help them take human shape."

This could not be happening. Ryoma stared at him in disbelief. How much did this magician know?

"More than you do, apparently. But then, I have to admit that I've been doing my own research." The mage waved a hand at his fish. "Finish up, we've got a lot of work to do. Eiji and Oishi landed about a league from here. Inui is already making his way towards them. I am more concerned about Momo and Kaidoh. They washed up near a forest down near the point of this island and I'd like to reach them before they murder each other."

"Is that it then?" Golden eyes narrowed. "No more questions?"

"Just one," Fuji countered smoothly. There was no way he could waste such a golden opportunity to shed some light on whatever mystery they had stumbled into. "What are you looking for? Back on the ship, you kept searching the waves like you'd lost something."

Ryoma had hoped he wouldn't ask that particular question, but then Lady Luck had never been on his side when it really counted. She hadn't been on his side when the slayers had attacked his city and the ocean had devoured his home. She hadn't been on his side when he had woken up in this strange world and immediately been besieged and attacked by the naval fleet. And she hadn't been on his side when he was captured or when his new companions fished the dragon slaying equipment up from the sea where it should have stayed buried.

Fuji was watching him intently, a sliver of sapphire visible beneath hooded eyelids.

The tense silence stretched on until, "I don't know." Ryoma took a deep breath and continued in a rush. He was tired of running, tired of the ache that hadn't left his limbs since he'd woken up, and tired of hiding all the time. "I've just had this feeling ever since—ever since I woke up that something out there's calling to me." He examined the thoughtful expression that crossed the magician's face curiously. "What were you expecting?"

"Oh, I don't know," Fuji said lightly. "Have you ever heard of the Heart of the Sea?"

"I've heard stories," Ryoma replied slowly, thinking. "It's a crystal right? A gemstone or something the color of frozen water that holds power over wind and waves."

"Exactly. Though I've never heard anyone speak of its color. After all, no one's ever seen it before, no one alive at any rate. Are you sure you know nothing more about it?"

Frowning, Ryoma shook his head. "I…don't know." But then, then, his memory was full of gaping holes. Though that name, when Fuji had mentioned the Heart of the Sea, he had felt—something, a tingling through his very being that brought a shiver down his spine.

Retrieving a plank from the pile of driftwood he had collected, Fuji fed it into the fire, the amusement back on his face. "Fancy that. We just had a civil conversation."

Ryoma snorted, leaning back against the cave wall. "Mada mada dane, Fuji."

The glint of sapphire vanished and Fuji smiled. "Call me Syusuke."

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AN: I apologize if that was rather short or anything. I'd write more but I'm in a bit of a hurry right now. I'm going to be really busy for about the next month or so with a sort of summer camp.

Thanks for reading and please review.


	6. Chapter 6 A Second Start

AN: Thanks to all reviewers

AN: Thanks a lot for reviewing (and reading). It's rather encouraging really.

Sorry for taking so long to update. I've been really busy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis, but I do own the story, plots and all. That's some consolation at least.

--

Walk Upon the Waves

Chapter 6

**A Second Start**

Shading his eyes with his hand, Kamio gave the decks of the small ship a quick once over. "Right, so is everyone aboard?"

"Everyone who wanted to come," Shinji muttered from his place in the prow beside him, brooding over the massive steering wheel. "Not that there's enough of us to stand a chance if we get attacked again. Those lazy fools on the island—I don't know what they expect to accomplish by staying on land. You never get anywhere by staying on land. Scared I suppose, but then they have a point about this place. I don't know why we picked a place like this as our meeting grounds. Good thing we have a navigator like me or we'd never make it out of here with the reefs as they are around here."

Expertly tuning his friend out, Kamio signaled his new crewmates to haul up the anchor and drop the sails. They had wasted enough time already. Not knowing what the enemy could be up to or where they were was making him more edgy than he wanted to admit.

"So where are we going anyway?"

Startled, Kamio turned to look at the two adolescents standing behind him. They had spoken in perfect unison and their voices sounded like echoes of one another.

"I'm Yohei," the one with short red hair introduced himself.

"I'm Kohei," his long sapphire-haired mirror image added.

"And we're twins," they said together as an afterthought. "We want to know where we're going exactly."

"Well, I was thinking we'd head towards Mauv."

The twins favored him with identical expressions of blank confusion and Kamio elaborated. "It's a small town on the shore of the Reshtic Sea. They say you can still find old artifacts washed up on the shores sometimes from the destruction of Ardalys."

Kohei gasped. "Ardalys? You mean that city the ocean swallowed decades ago?"

"Exactly. The navy and the prophecy on that stone both mentioned dragons. Legends say that Ardalys was the last home of their kind."

Behind him, Shinji whistled.

A slow grin spread across Yohei's face and he turned to his brother, lifting his chin. "Now this is what I call an adventure."

His brother just grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards the hatch leading down into the ship's hold. "I couldn't care less what you call it. It sounds dangerous, so we'd better spruce up our combination work. I refuse to spend another storm in the sea rather than on top of it. I mean, what's the point of being twins if you can't utilize the power bonus you get?"

"All right, all right, stop pulling!"

Kamio watched them disappear below decks with some amount of curiosity, his brow furrowed. He had heard of twin magicians before, of course, but he hadn't ever had the chance to actually meet any. They were supposed to have special capabailties when casting together as a single unit. What those abilities were though he had never found out. After all, twin mages didn't exactly grow on trees.

"Hey, Shinji," he asked, tearing his eyes from the closed hatchway. "What do you know about twins?"

"This is not a great time to be distracting me," his friend complained, turning the massive wheel in his hands as he steered the ship out into the open sea. "Honestly, what more do you need to kknow besides that there are two of them? One person is hard enough to deal with without a second copy. I wonder if they ever get annoyed, having anoter one of you around with you all the time. Come to that, why do reefs always have to be so treacherous? You'd think pirating didn't have enough troubles."

Kamio sighed, tuning his friend out with an ease born of long practice. Most people said learning to listen was one of the most important skills a person could have. But as far as Kamio was concerned, learning not to listen was even more of an art. Preferring not to waste his time trying to cut the blue-haired man off, he made his way instead to the side of the ship to watch the fish darting far below in the clear waters as Shinji brought the ship around to follow the coastline heading towards the sunrise. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake in pursuing the dragon rumors. It wasn't safe to mix in navy business, but his curiosity wouldn't let him leave it be.

Halting abruptly in his ramblings, the navigator pointed towards the distant shoreline. "Captain, there are people there."

Kamio followed his finger but could make out only a few, dark specs on the pale sliver of beach in the distance. Shinji's keen eyes never ceased to amaze him. "Does anyone have a telescope?"

Mumbling under his breath, Shinji tossed a brass telescope to him. Lifting it to his one visible eye, Kamio focused upon the dots moving across the sand and gasped. "I don't believe it."

--

Ryoma woke when the first rays of dawn crept across the floor of their small cave. He hadn't even noticed falling asleep the night before. Sitting up slowly, he peered around him through eyes still bleary with slumber. All that remained of the fire was a small pile of ashe and blackened twigs. As far s he could tell, he was alone.

"Fuji?"

When no answer came, he got slowly to his feet, leaning upon the cave wall and made his way out onto the beach. The sea had more or less healed his wounds but the energy the process had taken from him still hadn't been completely replenished. Still, he was feeling much better than he had in days. Perhaps it was because he no longer felt quite as though he was running, but he wasn't ready yet to concede that this was a fact. He had been alone for so long that he found it hard to imagine—not—being by himself, let alone confiding in somebody else.

Not that the magician in question was giving him much of a choice in the matter.

"Fuji?"

"Finally awake?"

Ryoma spun, almost losing his footing in the soft sand, to find the object of his musings coming down the beach with a bulging cloth back drifting lazily in the air after him. He caught a whiff of something sweet just before Fuji picked something from his bag and tossed it to him. Snatching it from the air out of reflex, Ryoma examined it curiously, running his fingers across the spherical, pale yellow fruit. "What is it?"

Fuji shrugged, taking a fruit for himself and biting into it. "It's not poisonous if that's what you're worried about. You find these growing near sandy beaches a lot, great for a snack when you're low on supplies, though I've never found out what it's called. I'm sure it has a name somewhere, but we've never given it much thought."

Ryoma's stomach growled as the honeyed aroma of the fruit filled his nostrils, but he bit back his hunger long enough to watch Fuji finish his first fruit and start into a second before taking a cautious bite of his own. He made short work of the fruit after that, and made his way around his crewmate to take another from the bag.

Fuji turned to watch him do this with his usual smile, though his eyes remained closed. "Good, aren't they?"

The shorter boy did not deign to answer, polishing off a third fruit with veiled relish before stopping abruptly and turning to stare narrow-eyed at the ocean. "There's a ship coming."

His expression abruptly serious, Fuji turned to follow his gaze, scanning the vast expanse of sapphire waters, calm in the aftermath of the storm. He spotted the ship Ryoma was talking about almost right away, but he also saw—or rather Felt—something else. Whatever it was, it was still far away but approaching swiftly.

"Hey!" A lifeboat had been lowered into the water and was cutting swiftly through the waves towards them. A figure seated at the prow waved wildly at them, sunlight gleaming off his blood red locks. "You there!"

Ryoma blinked, taking a few steps down the beach towards the lifeboat as its occupants leapt down into the shallows and dragged it onto the sand. "It's you."

Brushing strands of crimson out of his one visible eye, the shorter of the two men hurried up to him, his expression seeming both surprised and delighted. "So you did get away! I was worried back there when you ran off like that. I couldn't see how you could have run very far with the state you were in."

Ryoma looked away. "…I forgot to thank you."

The redhead grinned. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you made it."

Behind Ryoma, Fuji coughed, moving forward to drape a casual arm about the emerald-haired teen's shoulders. "Sorry to interrupt, but may I ask who is addressing my crewmate?"

The redhead started as though only just having noticed Fuji. "Oh, my fault, I never introduced myself. The name's Kamio, Kamio Akira. And you are?"

Kamio's companion cast a suspicious, sidelong look at Fuji, muttering, "Crewmate, he said? But I thought the navy brought the small one in when they got the captain. Not very responsible of a crew to let one of their member get captured without trying harder to rescue him.But it was the captain who rescued him in the end. How strange…such coincidence, to meet all the way out here, and with that storm. Never seen a storm like it in my life, and I've seen so many storms that it's quite unfathomnable…"

Fuji looked coolly at him before replying, "My name is Fuji Syusuke of the ship Seigaku. And I assure you we never leave our crew members behind. We picked Ryoma up at Sourai Port, shortly after your escape I assume."

Kamio's eye widened and he took a closer look at the young man with his pale, brown hair and eyes that he had yet to see open. He had heard that name before. Indeed, he knew of very few people who hadn't. He'd just never thought it would belong to someone so…well…gentle looking. Though now that he was paying attention, he could make out a certain hardness to the cast of the man's face, and a menacing sort of slight twist to the corner of his mouth. Combined with his seemingly ever-lingering smile, it made the new captain feel more than a little perturbed.

His companion didn't seem to have any of these reservations however, and continued to mumble as though determined to fill in the sudden, awkward silence. "Of course no one bothers to ask my name. It's Ibu Shinji if you must know, or if you care that is. And so you're a magician. It figures. Magicians everywhere these days, especially when you don't want them. You do sound familiar though. Now why is that?"

He would have continued except Kamio jabbed him hard in the ribs with his elbow. Instead, he returned his attention to the two before them, noticing the sea salt that crusted their clothes. "So, ah, what happened to your ship?"

--

Momoshiro sank down onto the sand with a groan. "Can we please stop for just five minutes? My feet are killing me. We've been walking for ours!"

"An hour, twenty-four minutes, and thirty-one seconds to be exact," Inui corrected, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "It's a bit too early for you to start complaining. Normally, you wait at least two and a half hours."

"Nya! And don't forget that we haven't found Fuji or Ochibi! We've got to get to them before something bad happens to them! Who knows what's lurking out here, or when the navy will show up!"

Momo rubbed his ears, glowering up at Eiji who was dancing circles around him. "All right, all right, I was joking. And please stop yelling. If we weren't being followed before, we probably are now."

The five of them fell silent at this, glancing nervously around at the empty beach, the ocean on their left, and the dense vegetation that went on as far as the eye could see to their right. No birds sang amidst the trees, and even the waves that lapped the shore seemed hushed and watchful, waiting.

Inui's glasses gleamed. "There is a ninety-seven percent chance that there is something in there that means us harm. I have been rying to locate this place since last night and I think I've narrowed it down to two islands."

"So that was what you were doing with that telescope," Momo muttered, "And I thought you'd taken up astrology."

Kaidoh hissed beside him. "Don't interrupt."

Inui went on as though he hadn't heard either of them. "Have you ever heard of the Twin Isles?"

"The Twin Isles," Oishi murmured, trying hard to remember where he had heard that name before. "Were they also known as the Reef Isles?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

Eiji gasped. "Nya! The Reef Isles? But how are we going to get out of here? We're trapped! Wah, Oishi, I don't want to spend the rest of my life here!"

"Hold on a second." Momo scrambled to his feet, waving his arms frantically. "What are you all talking about? Twin Isles, Reef Isles, I've never heard of either of them."

Kaidoh hissed derisively. "Fsuu, you moron, everyone's heard of the Reef Isles. Do you know how many ships were wrecked on the coral reefs that surround these two islands?"

"Obvious, I don't."

Trying to calm his redheaded friend, Oishi frowned worriedly. "There are so many that people have lost count. Though I wouldn't give up hope yet. There have been rumors of a pirate crew who uses these isles as a base, which means there must be at least one safe route through the reefs big enough for a ship or small boat. All we have to do is find it."

"Easier said than done," Inui mused, scanning the calm see once more. "Interesting…"

"Not interesting," Momo corrected. The rest of them turned in surprise at the sudden quaver in his voice—just in time to see something huge and striped streak out of the woods towards them.

--

They heard the screams and yells just as they were about to climb into the lifeboat. All four heads snapped up in alarm, though Kamio took off running first, speeding across the sands with the other three yards behind him.

"Does he always run this fast?" Ryoma asked the question with a smile to hide his lingering weariness.

"Always," Shinji grunted, and would have went on except that running was taking all the air he had.

They arrived on a scene of utter chaos. The rest of the Seigaku crew was arranged all across the beach around the edge of the trees. Everyone was shouting. Momo and Eiji clutched a staggering Oishi between them, Kaidoh had a sabre in his hand, and Inui had both his arms raised, a cage of crackling light before him containing a roaring, thrashing beast with fur like woven fire. What caught the attention of the newcomers though were the patches of crimson that splashed the sand.

"Nya! Oishi's dying!"

"He's not dying," Momo shot back, his own face pale with shock. "The cuts aren't that deep."

"But he's gone limp! We need a doctor right away!"

Kamio hurried over to the three at once. "What happened?"

Eiji was too worried to waste time asking who the redhead was. "Nya! Inui said we were being followed and then this creature came out of the trees and attacked us! You don't happen to be a doctor?"

"Sorry." Kamio shook his head but pulled a roll of linen from somewhere in his jacket. "Here, I had someone on my ship prepare this. It's enchanted to stop bleeding. Then we can get him to my ship to see the doctor in person."

Relieved, Eiji seized the linen and began unrolling it. "Thanks!"

Fuji stopped next to Inui, regarding the caged beast with guarded interest. "What is it?"

The taller magician laughed a little dryly. "I'd tell you it's a tiger, but it's markings and certain other features aren't quite the same. Note the gold sheen to its coat and the protruding fangs? If I'm not mistaken, it's some type of mystical beast, or perhaps a magical mutation."

Ryoma said nothing. He was staring fixedly at something that gleamed bloody red upon the shaggy feline's golden head. The beast had stopped struggling and was just sitting in the cage, glaring at them thrugh slitted eyes that felt altogether too emotionless. Yet there was emotion there, a presence that seemed to center around the scarlet spot on its forehead, a spot that looked more and more like a third eye the longer Ryoma looked at it. A slight shiver ran through him and he had to struggle to suppress it. It felt as though whatever or whoever lay beyond that third, unnatural eye, it had seen him. It had seen him and it had been looking for him for a very long time.

A hand grasped his shoulder and he jumped, spinning around to face the person, his heart pounding in his throat-but it was only Fuji looking mildly concerned. "Ryoma, are you okay? You were starting to shake. Are you still hurt?"

When the youth shook his head, Fuji turned to look back at the creature in its cage of light. He had sensed the presence too, and he didn't like it, didn't like the malice he felt in it or the way it seemed to mock them from behind the crackling bars of its prison. "Inui, stand aside, I'm going to get rid of it. I think it's a magician's construct after all, albeit a rather advanced one."

Not waiting for his crewmate to drop the caging spell, Fuji raised his hand and sapphire flames erupted around the animal. It gave a half anguished, half derisive screech and disintegrated, leaving only a single, crimson gem upon the sand. Walking over to it, Fuji picked it up and slipped it into his pocket before turning to face the rest of the people on the beach with his usual, sunny smile. "So then, shall we be gone?"

They all stared at him in stunned silence for several moments then Kamio coughed. "Err, right."

It took two trips to get everyone onto the ship that waited patiently for them out beyond the shallows. Ryoma watched the others load Oishi onto the lifeboat then Momo and Kamio running the boat out to catch the tide, sitting just where the waves lapped the sand so that the cold, salty water swirled about him before pulling back into the sea. He needed to restore however much energy he could.

The presence behind the creature's third, crimson eye…it reminded him of something though he could not quite put his finger on what, something dark that had haunted his steps ever since he had awoken in this strange era. A presence that he felt always drawing nearer although he never saw any indication of an actual enemy.

Fuji moved up to stand beside him, watching as various members of Kamio's crew helped haul their passengers up from the lifeboat. "Saa, I'll almost be sad to leave this place. But then it's always hard to leave a place with interesting memories."

Ryoma grunted. He wasn't sorry to leave. As far as he was concerned, he could never see this island again and it wouldn't be long enough.

"Are your wounds healing?"

"Mm."

There was a pause as the lifeboat started back towards them with Kamio and Shinji at the oars.

Finally, Fuji said, "As I said, I will help you in whatever way I can. Just remember that."

Then the boat was being dragged back onto the sand and Kamio was waving for them to jump aboard. Ryoma got reluctantly to his feet, brushing sand off his clothes though he no longer seemed wet despite having been sitting in the water. And the two of them headed for the boat, the ship, and the open sea beyond.

--

AN: I am working with a new fantasy publication called Ensorcelled that is looking for Original Fantasy Short Stories (1,000-10,000 words) and Poetry. So if anyone is interested in submitting, or knows anyone who is, please visit our website and pass on the word: ensorcelled(dot)berkeley(dot)edu.

Or e-mail at ensorcelled(dot)magazine(at)gmail(dot)com

I had to use the (dot)s because for some reason, the regular format doesn't show up.

Thanks,

And Thanks for Reading!


	7. Chapter 7 Wrath of the Ages

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**AN: **Thanks for the reviews. ^_^ I'm sorry it took so long for me to update. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

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**Chapter 7: **

**The Wrath of Ages**

Crimson eyes glittered in the darkness of the small room, rocking gently with the motions of the sea. He was so close he could practically smell victory upon the air, thick with sea salt and the promise of blood. A tongue flicked out to lick the pale lips in anticipation, and the magician smiled.

Soon…

A hesitant knock came at his door and a nervous looking sailor poked his head in. Ever since his arrival, everyone on the navy ship had been somewhat wary of the strange magician with eyes the color od freshly spilled blood. They explained their uneasiness to themselves by reminding one another that he was, after all, a magician, and apparently a very powerful one by the way their commander watched him. But in truth, their unease seemed to stem from his very presence, an indecipherable feeling that charged the very air around the black-clad man. "Sir? Captain Mizuki has requested your presence on deck. We're closing in on the target."

The figure seated on the room's single stool stood, finally taking his gaze from the mirror above the small, bare table. The smile he gave the sailor showed teeth that seemed to be unnecessarily sharp and the man took an involuntary step back into the hallway. "Of course. Tell your captain that I shall be there shortly. There are just a few more preparations I need to make before we begin the…Hunt."

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With the Seigaku crew aboard, the ship renamed the_ Skylark _by Kamio was a raucous, lively affair. Those who weren't helping with the sails or the steering chattered on deck, basking in the gentle sea breeze and sunlight.

"We haven't been pirates long," Yohei was saying, eyes gleaming, "but we're already famous in the north. You won't find better pair fighters anywhere else!"

"Nya! I bet Oishi and I could take you on," Eiji retorted, slinging an arm over his partner's shoulders. "People don't call us the Golden Pair for nothing you know."

Kohei grinned. "Yeah? How about a sparring match?"

Brow creased in worry, Oishi tugged away from the enthusiastic red-haired acrobat. "I don't think that's a very good idea… You three do remember that we're on a ship right now, don't you?"

"Aw, come on, Oishi! We fight on ships all the time! We're pirates, remember?"

Kamio put an end to the argument from his place in the prow, waving for their attention as he shouted, "There will be no sparring or unnecessary fighting on my ship! Honestly, we've all just come from shipwrecks of our own. Are you really so eager to test chance and repeat the experience?"

"He's right," Oishi agreed hastily, relieved. "It's far too dangerous."

"The Golden Pair?" Everyone stopped talking to look at the source of this new voice. The words had come from a man seated beside the hatch leading to the ship's hold, a had pulled over his short, black hair. They were the first words any of them could remember him speaking since they'd all arrived on board.

"Huh?"

The man jerked his head towards Eiji. "You people come from the ship _Seigaku_ then?"

"So you have heard of us." Momoshiro grinned. "But then I suppose we have been building something of a reputation for ourselves. We're the ones who sailed the Spiral Sholes unscathed two years back!"

The man shrugged. "And you would be?"

Fuji chuckled, leaning against the ship's rail beside Kamio as Momo exclaimed in indignant exasperation. "This is cozy, isn't it? So where did you say we were headed again?"

"Mauv." Turning to gaze back out across the peaceful sea, Kamio drummed his fingers on the wooden rail. "There's been so much talk of dragons lately that I started thinking…that maybe it would be good to take a look at the place where all the legends began."

The magician did not look at him as he replied, his attention focused instead on Ryoma who was busy eating a sandwich of roast fish. "But Ardalys disappeared beneath the waves centuries ago. Even the artifacts that wash up on Mauv's shores now and then can only tell us so much. So much knowledge has been lost."

"I know, but still." A slight frown wrinkled the red-haired captain's forehead. The smiling magician with his pale brown hair and almost perpetually closed eyes made him a little uneasy, but it seemed only wise to discuss matters with him. Mages, especially Master level mages, had a tendency for harboring great amounts of knowledge, and Fuji Syusuke's intelligence was something not even his enemies ever questioned—and survived at any rate. "I was hoping we'd still get some clues. And perhaps we might even be able to find a way to the underwater ruins."

"The navy is looking for a dragon," Fuji mused. "But where else have you heard the mention of dragons?"

Kamio shrugged. "There is the navy, of course, and other pirates too. It's like they're all looking for something, not just the dragon. And then there's this prophecy my crewmate ran across, if you hold with such things."

A prophecy? Fuji had mixed feelings concerning prophecies, and the various avenues through which people sought to know the future. It was hard not to believe when his own sister was a well established and always accurate seer, but there were dangers in such things too. After all, prophecies did not set the road of the future. They merely set down a guideline that the world may or may not follow depending on the actions of its inhabitants. And it was hard to judge a prophet's credibility—until it was too late anyway. Before Fuji could question Kamio further upon the matter, however, a sudden chill seemed to sweep over the entire ship, freezing everyone in their tracks.

As one, all the magicians aboard turned their faces towards the horizon where the Twin Isles had long since dwindled out of sight. It was hard to distinguish it against the bright blue and white-streaked sky, but something was creeping across the open water towards them, a rolling fog so thick it obscured everything it touched. They could all feel the darkness cloaked within it, the same presence Fuji had sensed earlier while still on the island looking out to sea.

"Inui?" he asked calmly.

The data wizard's glasses gleamed in the sunlight. "It'll be on us in approximately five minutes and thirty-two seconds. I can't gage the power of it clearly though, it's too unstable."

"That's dangerous spell work there, that is," Shinji observed from his place at the wheel. "Unstable you said? It's not wise to deal with unstable spells, let alone at such a magnitude. Whoever's controlling that fog must be crazy. Then again, crazy is a matter of opinion."

Straightening, Fuji turned to face the oncoming mists. He thought about ordering Ryoma below decks but changed his mind; he wanted his new charge where he could keep an eye on him.

"Anyone who can cast protective wards, take care of the ship," he said. And though he was new and neither captain nor first mate, everyone obeyed. There was something about the magician's voice, something like the steel and silk that only come with knowing, that forbade argument. Besides, no one wanted to repeat the experience of almost drowning again so soon, especially when they might not be so lucky this time as to locate another vessel.

Inui wandered along the ship's perimeter, tapping the rail at certain intervals with a crystal rod he'd pulled from the air. Runes flashed into life upon the wood where the rod struck, glowing brilliantly for an instant before fading, leaving a black outline of them where they had shone. Yohei and Kohei stood at the base of the mast, facing one another with their hands linked and their eyes closed, surrounded by a dim violet halo. The violet streamed from them along the cracks of the floorboards and up the mast to coat the sails before dying away. At his wheel, Shinji was muttering again, which was not unusual—though this time, his muttering had a distinct focus and a concentration in it that it normally lacked. Blue glimmered about his hands and along the steering wheel, setting their course and destination into the very structure of the ship itself. There was no way he was letting a measly fog ruin his navigator's reputation.

Fuji himself simply stood perfectly still, slits of his icy blue eyes showing as he stared into the fog bank. It had been a long time since anyone had dared challenge him in his profession and, serious though the situation was, he found himself looking forward to it, albeit in a darkly amused, vindictive sort of way.

He briefly considered ordering Ryoma below decks but dismissed the idea quickly. If the approaching enemy fancied the dragon, he would rather have him where he could keep an eye on him.

It wasn't long before the fog rolled over them, blanketing everything so that they could hardly make out the sails of their own ship. No one spoke.

The first attack flashed from the mist to their right. Inui started to raise his hands but Fuji was faster. Throwing up his arm, he brought up a shield and the lighting sparked and fizzed across it, skidding away like light across a soap bubble. Not waiting for the last of the lightning to die, Fuji threw his own energy blast in the direction the attack had come. Blue light flared, lighting up the mist for a split second followed by a sound like shattering glass. With the sound, the air not a hundred meters from them shimmered and the dark shape of a ship materialized as the cloaking shield that had been around it broke and fell away.

Blue eyes gleaming, Fuji raised his hand again to finish them off, but paused as the sound of clapping reached his ears. Surveying the ship, he picked out someone silhouetted against the pale mist at the ship's prow. From this distance and with the mist so thick, he couldn't make out the figure's face. But he could sense the aura and it made the hairs prickle on the back of his neck. Whoever the person was, Fuji knew three things for sure. This was the same person who had been watching them through the eyes of the beast on the Twin Isles. It wasn't human, and it was very powerful.

"Not bad," a voice drifted to them across the oddly silent water. "Not bad at all. But I would have expected no less from a magician of your reputation, Fuji Syusuke."

Fuji tilted his head slightly to one side, assuming his usual, faint smile. "You know my name, but I'm afraid I can't say the same."

A laugh rang darkly across the water. "No, you wouldn't have heard of me. The name's Kirihara. I suggest you remember it. It's only right that you should know the name of the one to destroy you."

"You think so?" Fuji's smile widened. "You realize that nany people have tried. And I need hardly say that they all failed."

"I won't fail," Kirihara assured him with confidence. "I'm not like the others. But first, you have something on your ship that I want—or someone, to be more precise. Hand over the dragon and I might let you go for today until next we meet."

"Dragon?" Eiji whispered, looking bewildered. "What is he talking about? We don't have any dragons on board—unless he means the figurehead. But I can't imagine what he'd want with a figurehead. I mean, their ship's already got one."

Beside him, Inui's glasses glimmered. "That's a navy vessel, albeit an unusual one. Didn't we hear something about the navy capturing a dragon?"

"We don't know anything about dragons," Fuji called back, voice coldly amused. "So I suggest you let us go or I'm going to stop being so friendly."

As he said this, a fierce, blue light began to flicker about Fuji. His crewmates edged cautiously away from him, looking for anything to hold on to. When mages fought at sea, things and people tended to be lost overboard.

The fireball hurtled at them from out of the fog with snakelike speed, but Fuji had been ready. With an almost lazy flick of his wrist, he diverted the fireball into the sea, sending plumes of steam and boiling water sheeting skyward. Gathering the scalding water into a bubbling coil, he aimed it like a lasso back towards the enemy vessel. The duel had begun.

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Heat and light flashed above the suddenly angry sea as spelled lightning met enchanted shields. Ryoma clung to the railing that ran along the outside of the captain's cabin, shielding his eyes from the spray with one arm. The clashes of power in the air made him feel slightly ill, crackling all about the two ships like an unseen yet lethal web, provoking an ache at the back of his skull. Along at the center of the deck, Fuji stood wrapped in an aura of sapphire flames. And, peering through the occasional spurt of disrupted foam and water, Ryoma could just glimpse the enemy mage wrapped in a similar aura of a bright, bloody, pulsing red. Pulsing like a heartbeat and laced with something dark that he sensed rather than saw. It was an almost familiar sensation and it was that familiarity now that was making his head ache.

People shouted as one of the sails tore under a lash of crimson energy. Fuji canceled out the spell before the sails could catch fire, and Inui began muttering incantations, fingers weaving rapid symbols in the air as he struggled to repair the damage. Crouching to keep his balance as the ship heaved, Ryoma watched as the strange, silvery, translucent sails of the enemy vessel were traced in blue fire and tore from their ropes to descend upon the ship and its crew. He could hardly hear anything above the roar of the waves striking at their ship's sides, but he didn't need to hear or see to know when the darkness suddenly began to fall back.

Fuji was winning.

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"Pull back!" Mizuki shouted furiously, fighting his way free of the silver netting, which didn't seem to want to let him go. "Pull back! We can't risk losing this vessel!"

"Curse him!" Kirihara's face was twisted in a snarl that made him look more like a demon than a man. But Mizuki didn't have the time to wonder about the mage's suddenly completely crimson eyes. Mages were always bizarre people, he reasoned to himself, waving his men into position to retreat. There had to be plenty of magicians out there with eyes that had no whites. And after watching that battle, he certainly wasn't going to mention the matter to the man.

"Pull back!"

No, he was annoyed enough at having to let go of their target for the time being. He didn't want to have to deal with a rogue magician too if the man took offense. At least he knew now , after getting a good look at the direction spells the other ship's fool navigator was weaving, where their prey was headed.

His long, bony ifngers wrapped about the ship's black rail, Kirihara glared at the _Skylark_. He might have lost this duel, but he wasn't going to be forgotten so easily.

In one last spiteful move as his ship was thrown back, Kirihara summoned all his power and lifted an immense wave up from the sea, sending it crashing over the other ship. People dove for anything to hold on to, shouting, but Fuji had been too close. And with a roaring hiss that knocked the air momentarily from his lungs, the water carried him over the edge and into the roiling waves. Then the navy vessel had disappeared and the _Skylark _was in chaos, people yellow to bail water from the deck and search the waves frantically for their missing companion.

"A life float!" Momo was shouting, scrambling frantically across the sopping deck. "Damn it! Where is it?"

Kaidoh ran past him in the other direction with the white ring in his hands. "It's a lifesaver, you idiot, not a life float!"

"Where is he?" Eiji bounded along the ship's rail, keen eyes darting from foamy crest to foamy crest. "I can't see him! Oishi, do something!"

But his cries were lost in the ocean's roar, and even if he had heard him Oishi would have been at a loss as to what to do. He was making his way over to his distressed friend, however, when he spotted a figure crouched balanced upon the railing. The person's hands gripped the wood so tightly his knuckles were turning white, spray flecking his dark emerald hair. Golden eyes watched the waves with the intensity of choice and then, as though having made up his mind about something, he let go of the railing and dove over the ship's side under Oishi's horrified eyes.

"Echizen! What are you doing? You'll get yourself killed!"

But the shout came too late, and their newest crewmate disappeared beneath the water.

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The water pressed in all around him, the current snagging his body and dragging him down into the depths of the raging sea. Struggling against the inexorable pull, Ryoma stared desperately around. He find Fuji soon or the magician might drown. Even the most powerful of magic could only do so much against the incredible, crushing might of the open sea. He just hoped he had regained enough energy to pull off a short transformation.

Fuji was losing breath and consciousness. He cast around for some type of spell to help him, an air spell perhaps, but it was hard to concentrate when he was already running out of it. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he thought he caught sight of Ryoma not that far from him. What was he doing in the water? Had the ocean got him too? But no.

The boy had his eyes closed and the emerald upon the pendant around his neck was pulsing with radiance. Green and gold light set the water on fire as they snaked around the slim figure, his hair whipping around his face as though caught in a high wind.

Forgetting about his urgent need for oxygen, Fuji stared in wonder as a snakelike creature dove outward from the sphere of light as it faded, coiling once around him before snagging his collar with its claws. Its long, narrow wings glimmered almost delicately in the water, built both for helping it slide through the water and for flight. The glimpse he got of its eyes shining like burning, liquid gold in the dark water filled him with an odd, uplifting feeling that brought a genuine smile to his lips.

Then Fuji was on the deck of their tossing vessel, coughing up water. Glancing hastily to his side, he found Ryoma in the same state, soaked through and panting, water dripping onto the wooden planks.

There was no sign of the creature anywhere, but Fuji knew better than to look. After all, the creature was right before his eyes, kneeling amidst a growing puddle of seawater. Fuji had seen paintings and sketches of dragons of course, but they were nothing like seeing the real thing.

"Fuji! Ochibi! You're alive! Eiji leapt on them, almost strangling Ryoma in his relief. "How did you guys get out? One moment we were all looking for you and the next, you were there!"

"Eiji, calm down and please give them some space." Oishi pride the redhead off Ryoma as gently as he could and handed both of their sopping teammates towels to dry themselves with.

"Though I'm curious too," Inui said, frowning at them then at the sea. "How did you two get back on board? Not that I'm complaining of course."

Fuji finally looked away from Ryoma and offered a vague smile. "I guess we got lucky."

And that was all anyone could get out of either of them.

Later that night after they'd made sure the ship was all right and Shinji had reset their course, Fuji sat in a room branching off the captain's cabin with Ryoma, a pot of Inui's infamous reviving drink brewing on a hot plate between them. Amazingly, they were the only two casualties onboard after their run-in with the navy vessel, and Oishi had insisted that they rest. Accordingly, this room had been converted into a sort of resting area—Ryoma refused to call it an infirmary; they weren't that badly hurt after all, just a little shaken and a bit wet. He sat at the table now eyeing the bubbling liquid in the pot with no little amount of misgiving. Nothing that color could possibly be safe to ingest.

"It's really quite harmless," Fuji assured him, smiling all too brightly as he poured himself a glass and downed several gulps. Setting the glass down, he poured a second cup and slid it across the table to his companion.

Ryoma wrinkled his nose at the smell and pushed it back. "Sorry, but I don't trust your taste."

The mage laughed, leaning back in his chair. He would have tilted it back a bit but all the furniture in these rooms had been nailed to the floor. "Suit yourself. But really," he added, abruptly serious, "Thank you."

Ryoma just shrugged and stood up, mumbling as he made his way to the door. "I'm going to lie down." And with that, he disappeared, leaving a very thoughtful magician staring at his empty seat.

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AN: Thanks for reading and please review!


	8. Chapter 8 Blood and Flowers

AN: My deepest thanks to everyone who reviewed. ^_^ It's highly inspirational. I hope you guys like this chapter. Hmm, I never considered what element these dragons are exactly, but it's probably not going to be fire. Probably ice, but that's not going to be important for another couple chapters.

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**Chapter 8: **

**Blood and Flowers**

The sun was high and the skies clear when the _Skylark _pulled into Mauv seaport. Flocks of seagulls wheeled overhead, cawing, their raucous voices making Ryoma's brow twitch in annoyance. His gaze flicked back towards the open sea now behind them then back to the various buildings that lined the pier.

"Jogging any memories?"

Ryoma didn't turn to look at the magician as he stepped up beside him. He didn't favor him with a reply either; his mind was too preoccupied. There was something here that wanted to be remembered, but what was it? Did it have anything to do with this Heart of the Sea that everyone seemed so interested in?

"There's a meeting in a few minutes."

The two turned to find the tall man with the cap pulled low over his face standing behind them with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his long, brown coat. The man had introduced himself as Sanada, but that was pretty much all he had said during the entire voyage. He was quieter than Ryoma, which was saying something in itself. But when it came to discussing the tactics of information gathering, he could cross swords with the best of them.

Fuji smiled—like he always did. "We'll be there in a moment, thank you."

When Sanada had left, the magician faced Ryoma. "Shall we?"

The shorter youth nodded sullenly and fell into step behind him as he headed towards the mast.

Within five minutes, the entire crew had assembled at the base of the mast. There were twelve of them all told. No one could deny that they were a rather motly looking group, but then no one could deny that there was a lot of collective talent amongst them too.

Kamio surveyed his audience from atop a crate, counting to make sure everyone was present and accounted for before beginning. "Right, so here's the plan. We're looking for information here, not fights, so please watch yourselves. We don't know if the navy's locked onto us yet and it's best to keep a low profile. All of you who carry weapons, please try to keep them out of sight—I didn't say you can't bring them," he said hastily as Momo opened his mouth to protest. "I'm just asking you all to keep them hidden. There are some extra garments in the hold if you need to look through them for anything more concealing."

He paused, waiting for the murmurs to die down before continuing. "So everyone's clear on where they're headed?"

Sanada nodded curtly. "I'll take the taverns. I've been here before. It'll be easy for me to visit the most frequented ones."

"And I shall accompany you," Inui said, glasses flashing. He'd never voluntarily give up such an excellent opportunity for collecting data.

"If you tell us where to go, we'll also take taverns," Yohei piped up.

Kohei nodded. "Yeah, everyone knows they're the hotspots for gossip. And it's better to have more ears in them."

"And eyes."

"Well yes, and eyes."

"Nya! Oishi and I are hitting the outdoor marketplace right?"

"There are two marketplaces," Sanada interjected.

"Then Shinji and I will take the other one." Kamio folded his arms. "What about the museums?"

His one-eyed gaze landed on Momoshiro and Kaidoh who were busily ignoring one another.

The viper hissed under his breath. "I'm not going to any museums with that loudmouth."

"Hey!"

"Ryoma and I will take the museums," Fuji said diplomatically. "And Momo and Kaidoh can look around the docks, not forgetting to give warning should any suspicious vessels arrive of course."

Kamio nodded, relieved. "Good. So remember, key words here are dragon, pirate, navy, Ardalys, and Heart of the Sea. And we'll meet back here for supper and to discuss what we find. Any questions?"

"Yeah, just one."

He looked at Momo inquiringly. "What?"

"Who's cooking supper? Because if it's Fuji's turn, I'm eating before I come back."

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The port city of Mauv bustled with so much life that it was practically bursting at the seams. Its disorderly collection of wood and brick buildings crowded shoulder to shoulder along its cobblestone streets as though trying to squeeze the life out of one another—metaphorically speaking of course, seeing as the buildings had now, as far as Ryoma knew, been endowed with any life to speak of. At least, he hoped not. Laundry lines had been strung from window to window across the street so that passers by occasionally found themselves walking under damp tunics and trousers and other things less appropriate for such public display. Cracked pots overflowing with vibrant vegetation sat on window sills and street corners, and everywhere he looked there were people.

Ryoma had never seen so many people in one place in his life.

"What do you know about demons, Ryoma?"

The sudden question snapped him out of his reverie and Ryoma glanced up at his companion. Fuji seemed serious so he gave the question serious consideration before answering. "They are creatures that live in another realm from this one that are often employed by dark mages to act as bodyguards, gather information, cary important messages, or assassinate people. Or at least that's what I've heard. I've never studied the subject and most of the magicians I've known preferred not to touch the stuff."

"That's because dealing with demons is tricky and dangerous." Fuji took his hand, ignoring his startled glare, and led him through a crowd of people milling before a stand selling fresh fish and crabs. His smile widened a bit when his companion didn't try to pull away. "True, demons are creatures from another realm, but that is only one type of demon. They can be created, you know."

Ryoma didn't like the sound of that, though mostly he didn't want to know how Fuji knew all this. "How?"

The magician shrugged. "It's simple. From the darkness within people, when a person is particularly greedy or vain or bloodthirsty, people full of hatred or vengeance. Can you remember anyone like this from before you woke up here in this time?"

Slowly, Ryoma shook his head. He couldn't remember any details of the people he'd known while Ardalys had still been a prosperous, glittering settlement built upon the open sea. The slayers and their followers who had besieged the city before its fall must have included countless such black-hearted men and women. It had been the lust for power that had drawn them to the city of dragons, or so he deduced from what he remembered, the lust for power and the lust for blood. Dragon blood was powerful stuff.

"Ah, here we are."

Ryoma halted as Fuji did and looked up at a shabby but impressively large building, its front doors guarded by a set of white marble pillars—or what used to be white marble pillars but now more resembled yellowish pillars just barely distinguishable as marble. Of all the buildings up and down this street, this one was the only one that didn't have people going in and out of it.

"The museum?" he asked hesitantly. The letters on the plaque above the door were so faded he couldn't make out what they said.

"According to the map Sanada was good enough to draw for us, yes." And his hand tightening around Ryoma's, he started up the steps.

The click of the heavy door swinging shut behind them sounded to Ryoma like the shutting of a prison door. They were standing in a huge chamber, its domed ceiling consisting of a complex stained glass masterpiece. Beautiful though it was, it did not let in much light, and what light it did allow was colored in shades of blue and green and gold, giving the place an eerie, old sort of atmosphere.

"There's no receptionist," Ryoma ventured, his gaze landing upon the counter at the far end of the chamber.

"All the better for us."

A sudden thought occurred to him and Ryoma frowned, lingering by the door as Fuji started for one of the corridors leading out of the center chamber. "This museum _is_ open, isn't it?"

Fuji paused in the archway to give him a bright smile. "Oh, did I say that?"

"But the door—it wasn't locked."

"Hmm, well, I always was good at those little spells."

"…"

"Now come on, Ryoma dear. We haven't got all day."

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Sanada thanked the waitress as she set a phoaming mug of warm cider before him and took a sip of it, studying the phoem as though he was really interested. The roar of conversation surrounded their small table and he sorted through them with the care and ease of a practiced eavesdropper. One of the major advantages of being a quiet person was that people tended not to watch their tongues around him. If he worked hard, people forgot he was even there, let alone that he might be listening and recording their every word in his head. He had picked a small table near the hearth; the day was a little chilly and most people were gathered as close to the heat as they could get. The only problem, then, was that this time, he was not alone.

Momo struggled not to say anything as several men at a neighboring table started a game of cards. "Uh, Sanada?"

A glance from beneath a dark cap and a soft grunt of acknowledgement.

"How long are we going to sit here?"

His companion frowned. "As long as necessary."

"Er, right. You do realize we've already been sitting here "doing nothing" for two hours?"

Sanada's brow twitched and he sighed. "Please, Momoshiro, I'm trying to listen. Don't interrupt."

"But—"

"Order something to eat or something."

His companion sighed and waved for the waitress. It was going to be a very long morning.

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The Ardalys exhibit was tucked away in the back of the museum beyond another set of doors that were locked before Fuji touched them. The musty, slightly stale scent of age wafted out to them as they stepped into the long chamber, laced with an almost sweet aroma that Ryoma could not identify. Whatever the scent was, it made the palms of his hands tingle.

"Now this," Fuji breathed, "is what I call an exhibit. I didn't know they recovered so many artifacts or I would have found time to come by earlier."

Ryoma felt as though he was stepping into a room from his past. Beautiful, meticulously detailed sculptures of multicolored crystal and shells stood lined within glass display cases placed at intervals throughout the hall. Wooden carvings of elegant ships and swirling water paneled the walls, all inlaid with pearl in the shape of dragons. Thousands and thousands of dragons, their scales gleaming and their jeweled eyes ablaze with a light that seemed to come from within the gems themselves. Walking slowly amidst the artistic relics, Ryoma felt his throat tighten and a slight prickling in the corners of his eyes that he hadn't felt since waking. He had missed the glittering towers and the busy markets, the various shops full of color and life, and the skies full of dragons. How could it all have gone so wrong?

"What was it like?" Fuji wasn't looking at him, but then with his eyes closed almost all the time it was hard to say for sure. "Ardalys, I mean."

Ryoma paused before a black stone sculpture of a dragon crouched upon a beach, its wings half unfurled and its fanged jaws parted. Protected within a scaly coil was a miniature ship.

"There used to be a much larger version of that statue in the city square," he said, indicating the statue with a nod. "We protected the ships and the city and they gave us a home. Dragons have always been hunted, ever since the beginning of time. And it was easier and much safer to work with sympathetic men and women than to try and survive on our own. The people of Ardalys respected us and gave us a voice, honored us even as sacred creatures."

"That dragon is much larger than you," Fuji observed, teasing.

"It's much older than I am," Ryoma said, annoyed. "I was the youngest in the city when…when the attack came."

"You were there when the city was destroyed?"

Ryoma started to answer but hesitated. "I remember some of it. There are only bits and flashes. I…don't think I was there when it sank, but I don't remember why." His brow furrowed. "I feel like I should, but I can't remember."

"No need to rush," Fuji said gently. "There's plenty more to see."

The moment Ryoma stepped into the next chamber, a wave of nausea swept through him. He stopped, his hand reaching for the closest solid object for support—which happened to be Fuji. The magician halted and gave him a concerned look. "Ryoma?"

His companion didn't speak, golden eyes fixed upon the glass display case at the center of the room. It was the only display case in this particular chamber—and it was full of dragon slaying equipment. The box that had housed them lay open and the weapons had been arranged artfully across a crimson cloth, the metal shining silver in the dim museum light. Their power pulsed in a thick, unseen aura around them, emanating from them in almost palpable waves.

His hand tightened on his companion's shoulder. "Let's move on. I can't stay here."

Carefully, Fuji moved his hand from his shoulder to the wall. "All right, but just give me a moment."

"But, Syusuke—"

"Don't worry, it won't take long. We've got to make sure none of our enemies get a hold of these weapons, don't we?"

That said, Fuji moved to stand beside the display case. His gaze lingered momentarily upon the various spears and blades, then he reached out and began tracing glowing, sapphire symbols upon the glass. The runes flared brightly and sank through the glass as though passing through water, falling in gentle chains about the contents of the case. It was a complicated spell and took all of his concentration. The enchantments on these weapons were very powerful and very old, and they fought him with all the power of the blood they had spilled over the centuries. But Fuji was patient and subtle.

Ryoma felt the pressure in his skull ease and looked up as Fuji returned to him, taking him by the shoulder and steering him towards the next archway. "What did you do?"

"I bound them. No one but me will be able to touch them until I lift the spell. I could have taken off the enchantments altogether, but that would take a lot more time and study. Perhaps in the future…"

It was in the third chamber that they found what they had been looking for, though they didn't know they had been looking for it until they saw it. Instead of various artifacts encased in glass, the third room was filled with tapestries, intricately woven masterpieces all centered upon one vast weaving that hid almost the entirety of one wall. It was a battle scene—that was obvious, but so darkly colored it was hard to make out any details. The one bright point of the image was the top of a spiral tower in the upper right hand corner, from whose windows blazed white blue light, all shining from a crystal the color of clean water. And from the heard of the darkness that roiled across all the rest of the tapestry shone a pair of bloody, crimson eyes.

"So…" Fuji breathed, half lidded sapphire gaze gleaming. "The Heart of the Sea was at Ardalys, just like our now navy…friend. The puzzle pieces are starting to fall into place."

But Ryoma wasn't listening to him anymore. His eyes were locked on the scarlet orbs glaring back out at them from the tapestry. The world around him was darkening rapidly, and only those eyes were real...

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So many people had gone in and out of the tavern that morning that Sanada hardly noticed as the door swung open yet again with a tinkle, admitting another chattering group of individuals. He merely noted that this new group was larger than most of the others, consisting of at least five or more individuals, before returning his attention to his half empty mug.

That was until a hand landed on his table and a voice full of careless confidence interrupted his concentration. "Who dares sit at Ore-sama's table? Fortunately for you, I am in a good mood and inclined to be merciful. Move now and we won't pursue the matter."

Slowly, Sanada looked up at the owner of that hand. "Excuse me?"

The tavern had fallen silent. Nobody was looking in their direction; instead, all the other customers carefully averted their eyes from the commotion as though afraid they might be noticed.

A young man with gray-black hair smirked down at him, dressed in a gaudy scarlet coat, its hem embroidered with gold. Sanada could tell at a glance that the fabric was worth a fortune. But as far as he was concerned, poor was the man that could not even afford some manners.

"You claim that this is your table?"

"Of course." The newcomer raised his eyebrows. "Everyone knows this is where Ore-sama always sits."

"Does it have your name on it?"

"Ore-sama does not need to answer such questions."

"Is that a no then?"

The man frowned. "If it's a name you want, that is easily solved. Kabaji?" The man snapped his fingers.

Sanada caught the glint of gold in the hands of the tallest man of the brightly dressed group and shot to his feet. His dagger was in his hand even before he had completely risen. "What do you think you are doing?"

But it wasn't a weapon in the man's hands; instead, firelight played across—of all things—a small, rectangular plaque. Engraved upon the gold was two words.

"Atobe Keigo?" Sanada scowled, not lowering his knife.

At the sound of the name, Momo seemed at last to take notice of their visitors and glanced up, his fork resting on another slice of roast beef. "Atobe? Oh, hey! Fancy meeting you guys here of all places!"

Everyone blinked and turned to focus on him.

"You know this clown?" Sanada asked coldly.

Momo shifted uncomfortably under all their stares. "Umm, well, yeah…He's a friend of our former captain."

A bespectacled man with shaggy, black-blue hair pushed his glasses up his nose in a way that reminded Sanada disturbingly of Inui. "Momoshiro? What are you doing here? Last we heard of your crew, you were a lot farther east."

Momo nodded to him. "Oshitari, it's been awhile. I could ask the same of you. A lot's happened since we saw you last."

"Momo," Sanada said warningly. He didn't trust these people, and he definitely didn't want them knowing their business.

Atobe waved dismissively in his direction. "And this man? Is he part of your crew now too? I can't say his face is familiar."

"Ah." Momo looked from him to Sanada and back again, weighing the wrath of each in his mind. He didn't know much about Sanada except that he seemed quite skilled, but something about the man made him sure that he didn't want to see him angry. Still, Sanada was the one who had said they needed more information. So, swallowing hard, he put on a bright smile. "Why don't you guys care to join us for a drink?"

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"Ryoma? Ryoma, wake up."

Someone was shaking him by the shoulders. Blinking dazedly, Ryoma stared around him at the dimly lit room and finally focused on Fuji's open, sapphire eyes. "Wha—?"

The magician stopped shaking him but did not let go. "You blanked out for a moment I think. Can you remember why? What happened?"

Recollecting his wits, Ryoma shook his head as though to clear it. "I thought I heard…I think the reason I'm here—something about the crystal…" He trailed off, frustrated, his mind a turmoil of half remembered memories. At last, he looked back up at his companion. "Um, could you please let go of me now?"

For a moment he thought the magician was going to object, worry still lingering upon his face, but then Fuji stepped back. "I think we've learned as much as we can here. We've still got a good few hours before it's time to reconvene."

His eyes finally shutting again, he smiled. "What do you say we treat ourselves to some fun? Perhaps something to eat?"

Fun? Ryoma echoed, wondering what the magician had in mind as he grabbed his hand and started dragging him towards the museum exit. But something to eat sounded good.

"Nothing spicy," he said, suddenly recalling the flaw in Fuji's cooking.

The magician just chuckled. "Of course."

They ended up in a coffee shop just off the main square at a table by the windows that faced the street. Ryoma peered out at the passing men and women, wondering idly what they were thinking about as they talked and laughed or hurried along hunched over with their coats clutched tight around themselves. It felt almost surreal, the normality of the scene despite the ship hunting them and the darkness into which they seemed to be running.

"This place reminds me of the town where I grew up," Fuji said, sipping at a tall glass of spice tea. "Are you sure you don't want any tea?"

Turning back to him, Ryoma shook his head, drawing his cup of water closer to him. "So…where are you from?"

"A seaport on the Teirga Peninsula well into the east." Fuji shrugged. "Nice place I suppose, but I always wanted to travel—see all those strange and wondrous sights people are always talking about."

"And have you seen them?"

"I guess that depends on how you look at it. The answer is yes and no."

"…Do you like making things complicated?"

The magician chuckled. "It makes life more interesting, ne? But I'm sure you understand what I mean. Some famous places just aren't as amazing when you actually visit them than when you're dreaming about visiting them. And some places you would have never thought could be beautiful turn out to be the most memorable scenes you'll ever find."

Ryoma looked down into his cup, swirling it so the ice cubes bobbed up and down, clinking against the sides. "Reality's never as beautiful as the dream."

"Shouldn't that depend on the dream? I mean, it could have been a nightmare."

Ryoma snorted but said nothing as the waitress bustled up with their orders. When she finally left with a warm smile for them both, he glanced curiously across their sizzling platters at his companion. He had known quite a few magicians in the past, but Fuji was different. He didn't seem particularly passionate about his spells or magic. On the surface, the magician's smile was warm and charming, but all the dragon saw in it was secrets. Well, maybe not all. Still…

"Syusuke, why did you become a magician?"

Fuji paused, his fork resting casually in his hand. "Because I was and am good at it."

"Though that's only half the reason," he added as Ryoma frowned.

"And the other half?"

"I'm afraid I'll have to think about that for a while before I can answer."

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"No."

Fuji glanced at his companion with. "No what?"

They were making their way through the crowded streets and he paused before a shop on the corner overflowing with colors and aromas.

"Don't buy me any flowers."

"Why, I don't know what gave you the idea."

Dark emerald eyebrows went up. "We have been in front of this flower shop for the past ten minutes, and you just asked me what kind of flower I liked."

Fuji laughed. "Ah, guilty. How about a rose? I've always liked roses."

"No."

"Not even one? We could use some color on the ship."

"Then get something fake. Those will die within days. And don't give them to me, I don't want them."

"Why not? Don't you like flowers?"

"…It feels weird."

Fuji grinned wolfishly. "That's no reason."

But Ryoma ignored him, opting to continue down the street without him rather than linger any longer before the shelves of fragrant blossoms. The magician soon joined him, taking his hand as they made their way through the marketplace. He didn't want to lose the smaller youth in this mob and besides, he had decided that he liked being close to him. Despite having witnessed Fuji's power as a magician firsthand and heard tales of his less-than-holy nature from their crewmates, Ryoma showed no fear or awe of him. It was kind of refreshing to be trusted, and the companionable silence that lingered between them at times felt comfortable rather than strained. And, selfish though it was, Fuji liked being the one person who knew all—or many of—the dragon's secrets, and the person he could turn to when in trouble. Put more simply, he mused, he just liked having him all to himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by his companion's gasp of surprise. Fuji's hand tightened on his and he turned to follow his gaze towards a stall halfway down the street. From their position, he could make out several maps hung about the stall, but they looked normal enough to him. "What is it?"

Ryoma pulled him over to the stall and stood staring narrow-eyed at one of the smaller maps pinned to the upper corner of the stall's right side, the parchment browned and cracking on the edges. When he did not answer, Fuji turned to the shopkeeper who had just finished with another customer who had departed with a massive map of the world.

"That map," he said, pointing at the one Ryoma was staring at. "How much do you want for it?"

"That old thing?" The man raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Are you sure you want it? I'm afraid it won't be of much use these days. Picked it up from an antique seller some time back, but I took it to a friend of mine who knows these things and he told me I'd been ripped off. The place has never existed. It's a fake, an imaginary map with no story even to go with it."

Fuji shrugged. "Humor me. I like the looks of it. So how much?"

Fuji paid for the map and handed it to Ryoma as they moved away from the stall. "Saa, care to fill me in now?"

"This bit," Ryoma said, indicating the land mass in the lower corner of the map. "I know this place. It was an island not that far off the shore of Ardalys. It's…it's…" he trailed off, a look of confusion clouding his eyes all of a sudden.

Fuji took the map, inspecting it with care. Something about it seemed familiar though he was sure he'd never seen the island before. "This sea," he said slowly, a glint of blue showing from beneath his eyelids, "isn't this the sea we've been sailing?"

Ryoma's brow furrowed. "If it is, then this," he muttered, tracing his finger along the path of several, ghostly lines, "an underwater tunnel, do you think?"

They traded suddenly intense looks. Fuji rolled up the map and tucked it into his pocket. "We'll talk it over with the others later. Inui might know something."

"Shall we head back then?"

Fuji nodded, but as they started for the docks, a hunched old woman seated at a table draped in drab, blue fabric halted them. The cards laid out across her table marked her as a fortune teller, and the necklaces hung with charms around her neck clacked as she moved. She pointed a long, bony finger at Ryoma, her clouded green eyes wide. "You, there's a darkness around you, boy."

"Excuse me?" Ryoma blinked and Fuji drew closer to him, eyeing the old woman warily.

The old woman just shook her head, gathering up her cards, shuffling them, and beginning to lay them out again. Yet though every card had been different when she picked them up, every card she lay down when revealed showed the same picture: a black-cloaked figure with a scythe in its bony hand and a moonless night behind it.

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If Shinji had been anyone other than himself, he might have been somewhat alarmed by the expression on Fuji's face as he pulled him aside, away from the chatter and laughter of their companions. As a magician, he knew of course that Fuji was not someone you wanted to cross. But as the former navigator of the upstart pirate crew of the _Fudomine _ship, he had learned not to be afraid of much. New pirate crews had it hard against the navy and the more experienced, hard-bitten, older crews. But they had survived and even begun to make something ofa name for themselves before the battle and the wreck that had left them all scattered across the continents.

"Ibu Shinji right?" Fuji interrupted his thoughts, his voice quiet but sharp nonetheless. "I heard from Captain Kamio that the two of you found a prophecy a while ago."

He stopped and Shinji didn't need any prompting to know that he was waiting for an answer. "Yes, a prophecy. Don't know what it was doing on the rocks, but—"

Fuji cut him off smoothly. "Can you tell me what it said?"

Shinji thought about this for a moment, wondering distractedly why the magician was looking at him so intently. "Well, from what I recall, it said that all the powers of the world shall collide with the Waking of the Heart of the Sea. The dead will know no peace until the Symphony of Blood is silenced and the last dragon will die on a night when the moon turns red and the oceans are torn by the rage of the Untamed. There was more too, but that was the general gist of the parts I deciphered."

The words sank in slowly, but one particular phrase leapt out at him.

Yes, Fuji did believe in prophecies to some extent. But this one…For some reason, he could not—would not—believe in this one. After all, prophecies didn't always come true, right?

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AN: I will talk about what happened at dinner in the next chapter. Thanks for reading and Please review!


	9. Chapter 9 Mapped in Scales

AN: Characters may or may not be slightly OOC in this chapter, but then it is an AU and so I am taking some artistic license, so to speak. Hope you guys like it.

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**Chapter 9**

**Mapped in Scales**

"It has been decided."

"But he's too young! You can't be serious."

"I'm sorry, Rinko, but that's the point. We need someone young, someone who can adapt when the time comes. He's the most promising we've seen in decades. The Council has made its decision. It has to be him…"

…Ryoma wasn't sure what had woken him at first, but it wasn't hard to figure out. There was someone in his room.

He shot bolt upright in bed, clutching the stone around his neck. "Who—"

"Calm down. It's me."

"Syusuke?" Ryoma relaxed, the drowsiness clearing enough from his eyes for him to pick out the magician's familiar shape in the darkness. "What are you doing?"

Fuji stood up from the stool he had been occupying and sat down on the edge of Ryoma's bed. His gaze wandered around the small room, bare of furnishings save for the bed, one stool, and a box that served as a table. Oishi had insisted Ryoma have a room to himself after hearing about his collapse in the museum.

"I have been thinking."

Ryoma gave him an odd look then lay back down, staring up at the dark ceiling. "I…remembered some things."

There was a long pause in which Fuji turned to look at him before he continued. "I think—I think I'm supposed to be the guardian of the Heart of the Sea…I think the Council decided to put an enchantment on me so that I'd sleep until the battles were over, until a guardian would be needed again. That's way I only remember a bit of the fighting…"

He trailed off again, shivering. Even though it was only a little bit of fighting, there had been so much blood, so many injured, dying, and dead. It made his heart ache in a rather unfamiliar way. "Why does everything always have to be like this?"

Fuji's gaze was distant as it lingered upon his face. "The history of humanity has always been written in blood."

Ryoma let out a half angry, half disgusted hiss. "But it doesn't have to be."

"No," Fuji agreed, "it doesn't. And we're always trying to write it with other things—creativity, innovation, technology…"

"And yet when those things falter, it's the innocents who suffer."

"So eloquent all of a sudden."

The teasing statement failed to elicit a smile. Ryoma rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. Nightmarish memories kept circling like vultures in his head and the lingering stench of blood in his nostrils made his stomach heave. He tensed when a hand landed on his shoulder, going perfectly still.

"We're trying, Ryoma. I promise that we're all trying—well, we as in the people on this ship anyway. You're in the right place now, and none of us are going to let the darkness that destroyed your city overrun this world. It is our home too, you know."

Sighing, Fuji moved to sit next to him, his hand tracing gentle circles on the shorter youth's back. "Let me tell you the other half of the reason why I became a magician."

Ryoma relaxed a little, listening, though he did not raise his head.

"When I was very little, pirates attacked my town. They burned down several buildings before we could stop the fire, and they took anything valuable they could lay their hands on before the navy arrived—far too late to do anything of course." His smile got just a bit sharper on the edges. "My parents were killed on that raid, leaving me and my two siblings. I became a magician because magic was the best weapon I could find for changing the world. And I became a pirate because what better way was there to weed out the bad eggs than from within? My little brother thought differently though; he joined the navy. I am—a bit—sadistic, I know, but it's the suffering of wicked men that I really enjoy."

This last was said with a hint of wry humor and Ryoma snorted. "At least you're honest."

"Yes, well. Honesty, like all things, has its place. And in many cases, a rather high place. I'm sure you agree with me."

At last, Ryoma looked up at him and nodded slowly, though he couldn't completely push away the fear inspired by that night. His golden eyes clouded as he recalled the meeting earlier during dinner…

"Atobe? Are you serious? Atobe Keigo is here?"

Momo nodded, shooting the glowering Sanada a nervous look before turning back to Oishi. "It looks like it. We ran into him in a tavern earlier—a bit before noon I think it was. He and his crew just arrived yesterday to restock or something."

"Who is this Atobe?" Kamio asked warily from his seat at the head of the long, rectangular table.

"He's the captain of Hyotei," Inui reported, glancing up from his notebook, "quite famous for his skills with the rapier. He is also famous for being quite vain and rather self-centered with a very overblown sense of self importance."

"I hardly think it matters who this pirate is—he is a pirate if I am not mistaken, right? Well, anyways, I thought we were looking for information, not old friends—or is it old enemies? You never said… The point is—"

"The point is," Momo cut him off—they were all getting quite good at this—, "He'd heard of this "Heart of the Sea" everyone's looking for. They were searching for it for a while too, but not anymore."

"Not anymore?" Yosei raised his eyebrows, an expression mirrored by his twin. "Why not?"

"He said he didn't think they needed it."

"…Even Atobe can't be arrogant enough to believe he can control the oceans without help."

"Well, no, but he told us he doesn't believe the crystal actually exists or someone would have found it by now—or at least heard of it before now."

"He does have a point for once," Inui mused, pushing his glasses up his nose. "The number of powerful artifacts discovered over the past two centuries has decreased steadily and now make up less than 0.01 percent of recovered relics. Some people even claim that all the treasures to be found of the ancient world have been found. Though of course, I myself am of a slightly different opinion. There are always mysteries in the world and it's quite unlikely, if not impossible, that people could have uncovered them all."

"That wasn't all he said," Sanada cut in, frowning down at the roast fish on his plate. "He mentioned running into a lot of trouble in their search, and other stories they'd heard of—entire crews turning up dead after declaring they'd found a clue to the crystal's whereabouts, things and people going missing. He didn't say so but I'll bet he was scared. No respectable captain, after all, would direct his or her crew into a curse if they weren't willing. And even if they were…"

"Do you think he was right about a curse?" Kamio asked uneasily. After all, he was more or less the captain of their mismatched crew.

"It isn't impossible," Fuji mused, but there was no fear in his faint smile.

Eiji swallowed, scooting closer to Oishi. "Nyaa! I'm not sure I want to keep looking for it anymore."

"It's not very likely though," Inui assured him, flipped through his notebook. "All legendary artifacts are surrounded by myths and factual stories of bloodshed and misfortune. In ninety-eight percent of these cases, there is no actual curse. No more of a curse than human greed that is."

"But that is in itself a great curse, isn't it?" Shinji stared pensively into the depths of his cider. "After all, anything that can make one person take another's life is a great curse. Hmm, though perhaps curse isn't the right word. Can you break a person's greed? Or hatred or jealousy or thirst for revenge? I mean, it is possible to break curses and so if you can't break those "curses" then it's not a very good comparison. Speaking of which—"

"I just want to make this clear," Kamio interrupted, raising his voice so everyone would hear him. "Are you all sure you want to continue with this search? I mean, I don't want to risk anybody's life for my curiosity. And curse or no curse, the navy and whatever it is they've got with them have already tried for us once. I won't blame any of you if you don't want to continue. I'm sure you could find other ships here."

They all fell silent, exchanging glances and picking at their plates. Ryoma fidgeted in his seat, not looking up from the tabletop. Whatever any of them chose to do, he knew where he was going. If he wanted any chance at peace, he had to get to the bottom of all this.

Fuji was the first to break the silence. "Saa, I'm not afraid of curses or demons. Actually, I'm not too bad at curses either, if I do say so myself."

"And I," Inji said, glasses shining in the lantern light. "I am most certainly not giving up such an excellent data-collecting opportunity."

Beside him Kaidoh shrugged and nodded with a soft hiss. The others were slower to give their assent, but give it they did. Though none of them were fools, it was hard to imagine backing down after spending so many years at the top of the sea-fairing food chain.

"Well, now that it's settled, I'd like you all to take a look at this." Fuji pulled out the map they'd bought and spread it out across the table before him, careful not to damage the age-worn parchment. "Ryoma and I think we found the location of the crystal."

"What?" Mom leapt up and scrambled around the table for a better view. "Why didn't you say so earlier? And here we've spent all this time talking about how hard the damn place is to find!"

Choosing to ignore his exclamation, Fuji traced a finger along a line of fading ink. "It's hard to tell for sure—this map is very old you understand. But we think this is a beach not that far from here. There should be a cave there leading to a network of underground passageways that used to connect this continent with Ardalys."

Inui's notebook was already open on the table, his pen hovering above a half-filled page. "May I see that?"

Fuji glanced at Ryoma who nodded and passed the map over. "We should be prepared, however, should that black ship catch up with us."

"We've fought the navy before," Kaidoh pointed out. "Though there was that new magician of theirs."

"Not a magician," Fuji corrected, "a demon."

Kamio gasped. "But why would the navy stoop to using demons? Everyone knows demons are evil and can't be controlled for long. I mean, even the navy can't be that desperate to catch us."

"No," Fuji agreed, "but what if they didn't know he was a demon? What if I were to tell you that this demon…was once human?"

"Demons born from greed and hatred and bloodlust," Sanada mused. "I have heard of them. Some of the most dangerous criminals in history gave up their humanity and became demons, which were later hunted down and slain or sealed away."

Kamio frowned uneasily. "They are powerful, aren't they? And you're saying there's one masquerading in the navy and that he's the one coming after us?"

Fuji's smile didn't fade, though it took on a distinctly cold undertone. "I am saying that it is a definite possibility, and that we should be prepared."

…Ryoma shook his head to clear it and sighed. They should both be getting to bed if they wanted to be ready for tomorrow. "So what were you thinking about when I woke up anyway—that you had to think about it in my room?"

"Well…" Fuji drew out the word, as though pondering what he was about to say with care. "I was debating testing a theory."

"A theory?"

"Saa, a question that's been on my mind for a while."

Ryoma eyed him curiously. "What kind of question?"

Silence followed and Ryoma started to turn so he could get a better look at his companion's face. He started as gentle fingers slid under his chin and tilted his head up. Next thing he knew, the magician had leaned forward and caught his lips in a firm but gentle kiss.

Golden eyes widened and Ryoma froze in shock. Unperturbed, Fuji pulled back slowly, his hand sliding down to rest on the smaller youth's neck, and seemed to be deep in thought. "Hmm, I think I've solved my question."

Still dazed, Ryoma blinked. "and what was the answer?"

"Yes." Fuji smiled. "The answer was—or rather is—yes."

Ryoma shifted a bit uneasily. This kind of thing had never happened to him before and he wasn't sure how to react. "Dare I ask what the question was?"

"Mm, I don't know. Do you dare?" Fuji's smile widened as Ryoma scowled. "Let's just say that I've decided that I…like you in something more than a friendly way."

Speechless, Ryoma averted his gaze, embarrassed. He had seen other people in romantic relationships before, of course, but he'd never taken part in them himself. His father's determination in the past to pair him off had only driven him away from any ideas of romance.

"Does it bother you?"

Gathering his wits, Ryoma answered with his gaze locked somewhere on the creased bedcovers. "Are you asking me if it bother me that you like me, or if I like you back?"

The moment the words were out of his mouth, Ryoma felt his face grow hot. He could not believe he was having this conversation.

Fuji chuckled, reaching over to tuck a lock of emerald hair behind his ear. "Both."

"I—I don't know." Ryoma stopped, taking a deep breath. He did enjoy the magician's company more than most, and his close proximity didn't bother him as much as he thought it should have. Still, he didn't know if that meant he really—"liked"—the man. Then again…he swallowed and added, "I guess I'm okay."

"Good, because I don't give up when I've decided that I want something."

Wary, Ryoma scooted a little ways away from him. "Well, goodnight then, Syusuke."

Fuji smiled, leaning back against the headboard. "Goodnight, Ryoma."

Dark emerald eyebrows went up. "Aren't you leaving?"

"Saa, did I say that?"

"Fuji…"

"I thought I'd just stay here for a while longer. Don't let me interrupt your sleep."

Ryoma stared at him for a moment longer then sighed in resignation and lay back down, drawing the blankets up around him. He let his eyes close, relaxing with some effort. His mind whirled with half confused questions, but now was not the time. There was just one more thing.

"Did you…did you ever catch those pirates? The ones that raided your hometown?"

Ryoma didn't have to look to see the cold smile that tugged at Fuji's lips. He could hear it in the magician's voice. "A long time ago, my dear, a long time ago."

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AN: Please review!


	10. Chapter 10 One, Two, Three

AN: Thanks for all the reviews. They keep me writing. ^_^

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Chapter 10

**One, Two, Three**

Atobe Keigo was many things—intelligent, handsome, a skilled swordsman, a charismatic captain, and the center of the universe—at least according to Atobe Keigo himself. Not everyone agreed with all these qualities of course, but there was one thing people overlooked at their peril. And that was that whatever else they thought him to be, Atobe Keigo was no fool.

"Oshitari!"

Moments after he'd called out, the man in question appeared in the cabin doorway. His dark, longish hair forming a somewhat haphazard frame about his pale face, the magician glanced around the lavish room before focusing on his captain. "You wanted something?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact." Gesturing for the mage to join him at his table, Atobe pointed at the mirror set on its stand before him. "Ore-sama has important business to discuss with Kunimitsu."

Oshitari raised his eyebrows, frowning. "You want me to contact Captain Tezuka?"

"Ore-sama believes that is what he said, yes."

Nodding slowly, Oshitari moved to stand beside the table and held his right hand out over the mirror. It was best not to question his captain too much, not if you wanted to get anywhere. So, shuffling his curiosity to the back of his mind, he concentrated, muttering under his breath and ending with a light tap upon the silvered glass. The mirror clouded momentarily then cleared, only now the image reflected within it no longer bore any resemblance to the cabin around them.

The face that looked back out at them wore a stern expression that made the young man to whom it belonged appear older than he really was—some twenty odd years. Narrow spectacles glinted from beneath somewhat tousled brown hair. "Keigo? That is you, isn't it? What are you doing calling me up at this hour?"

"Ah, Mitsu, good to see you too. It's not that late."

"…It's half past one after midnight."

"Right, well, you know we don't keep such strict hours at sea."

Tezuka sighed, shifting his glasses on his nose with two fingers. He could feel a headache coming on. "You didn't drag me out of bed to tell me this. At least, I hope that even you would have more sense."

Laughing, Atobe sat back in his chair. "It's been far too long since we've spoken, Mitsu. You should really try harder to stay in contact with old friends, even if you are recuperating. Anyhow, I ran into Momoshiro earlier today, and I thought you might want to know that your crewmates have joined the fever for this Heart of the Sea we've all heard so much about."

Silence. Then, "What?"

Atobe's expression sobered. "They and a scattering of other people—from crews that have been split up by the navy's recent burst of activity. They seem to have picked up a new member too, though I haven't met the brat myself."

Tezuka's expression in the water had become extremely grim. He may not have been actively out at sea at the moment, but that didn't mean he didn't stay on top of the news. He made it a point to be aware of all major current events. It was a survival instinct more than anything else really. So naturally, he was aware of all the crews that had gone missing or become incapacitated from rather unlikely disasters over the past month. And all of it had had something to do with this crystal that supposedly had the power to control the seas…

"Keigo, you are giving me a headache. Where are you?"

*

Finding the beach turned out much more difficult than they had expected. The map was old and even geography changed at least a little in the span of centuries. In the end, the crew split up into three teams, one group standing guard while the other two teams picked their way along the coastline. It was slow and tedious going.

Standing up in the shallow waters, Ryoma wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and cast a longing glance out towards the open ocean. The feel of cool water rushing about his feet flooded him with energy even as the sun's rays sapped it away and he had to struggle not to go running into the waves. He wouldn't even have bothered resisting if he'd been alone or just with Fuji, but the rest of the crew would probably be worried if he were to suddenly go haring off into the ocean. A smirk tugged at his lips and Ryoma started once again to slog through the water, prodding at the sand. They'd probably assume he'd gone insane and hurry to fish him out.

"Oi, I think I found something!"

Momo's shout rang out across the beach before Kaidoh shushed him with a hiss and waved for them to go over. Ryoma threw the sea one last, wistful look before splashing over to join them. He could think of many places he would rather have been at that moment, but for some reason he was feeling oddly…cheerful.

It had been such a long time since he'd felt honestly cheerful about anything that the feeling made him a little lightheaded—especially when his mind couldn't come up with any reasons for this good humor. He'd woken up in a world where everything and everyone he'd known was suddenly gone, been chased across the seas, and hunted by demons. No, he certainly couldn't imagine why he felt like things were starting to settle down, that his feet were finally starting to find the ground that had been so abruptly torn out from under him.

Breakfast had been a hasty and quiet affair. They had risen at dawn and Oishi had taken a group to market to help him buy fresh supplies and other tools he thought they might require. Inui had wandered about the ship muttering under his breath as he cast numerous enchantments to keep the vessel safe until their return, a grumbling Shinji following in his wake with spells of his own and occasional complaints about having other magicians messing around with "his" ship. That'd left Kamio, Sanada, and Fuji to pour over several maps and diagrams while Ryoma napped near the mast with a cap he'd found pulled low over his face. He'd never been a fan of rising early and the warm morning always made him drowsy.

"So what do you have?"

Momo indicated the massive slab of rock before him as Kamio dropped down beside him. " Looks like runes to me. I'm thinking there might be—or have been anyway—a door here."

At the mention of runes, Inui all but materialized beside them. "I do believe you're right, Momoshiro."

"Gah!" Momo fell backward into the shallows, spluttering. "Don't _do_ that! Do you know how creepy it is when you sneak up on people like that?"

The taller man's rectangular glasses gleamed and he grinned. "No, I don't."

"So it's a door?" Kamio interrupted before an argument could start, running his hands along the rock. "But there don't seem to be any cracks."

"Allow me." Inui stepped forward, tapping at various points on the rough stone with his pen. Murmuring under his breath, he examined the runes once more then sketched out a few symbols of his own upon the rock. For a moment the symbols lingered in streaks of brilliant light then they faded along with a good portion of the rock to lave the gaping entrance of a cave. Submerged steps led from his feet down into murky depths.

"A sort of combination illusion and transformation—solid to the touch but not actually real," Inui explained as the rest of them gathered around him.

"This could present a problem," Kamio observed, staring uneasily into the dark water. "I don't suppose any of you mages have a spell that'll let us all breathe underwater?"

Silence.

Then finally, Fuji spoke up. "Saa…it will take some time to prepare?"

*

"There's a chill upon the wind, sir."

Mizuki turned from the railing where he had been gazing at the town to frown at his companion. "What do you mean, Kawamura? It's been sweltering hot all morning."

The sailor shifted uneasily, tugging at his cap. The tall, brown-haired man had never been one of the brave ones in his team, but he had a sensible head on his shoulders and Mizuki couldn't ask for a better chef. Rumor had it that he'd been a pirate a long time ago but had quit to join the navy; perhaps it was because of this that he had such a good sense for danger. "It's not that kind of cold, sir."

Mizuki scowled, drumming his fingers upon the smooth wood. "Where is that damned magician?"

"He said he was going to visit the museum, sir."

"I know that," he snapped, more irritated with the missing mage than with the sailor. Kawamura had always been the kind of person it was hard to be mad at for long, and Mizuki rather suspected this was one reason he'd been assigned to his crew to begin with. "What I want to know is _why_. We don't have time for tourism."

Even as the words left him, Mizuki felt an awkward pang of…guilt? He wasn't sure. Somewhere deep down, he was relieved to be out of the strange magician's presence. But he was a navy captain for heaven's sake! He wasn't supposed to fear anyone, magician or not. Still, something about the red-eyed man filled his heart with misgiving and made him dread this journey—made him want to turn around and head straight back home. Forget Fuji and his mockery. Forget the dragon and the Heart of the Sea. Anything was better than spending time on the same boat as Kirihara.

"I…don't like that man," Kawamura muttered, echoing his thoughts. "There…doesn't seem to be any warmth in him at all."

Mizuki made a sound of agreement in his throat. But this was his ship, his crew, and his mission. He would be damned if he let some wandering magician get the better of him. His fingers curling into fists, Mizuki turned back towards the port. He would have to talk to the man when he returned.

He didn't have to wait long.

There was a stormy cast to Kirihara's face as he stepped aboard ship, his face pale and drawn with what might have been anger. In any case, Mizuki refused to be intimidated. Stalking up to the magician, he cleared his throat and glared. "And where have you been?"

Crimson eyes focused on him and he had to force himself not to step back. "Just taking a look around the city. I had plans to acquire some…equipment, but it seems our enemies have taken precautions."

"What equipment?" Mizuki demanded. "I am the captain here you know. You can't just go wandering off without telling me why. We had a deal."

"I told you. I will get you your dragon."

But there was something about the way he said those words that set Mizuki's nerves on edge. Quite suddenly, the captain was quite sure that he didn't want to spend any more time with this man. There was something wrong about him, and the more time they spent on the trail of their quarry, the more wrong he felt. And whatever else he might have been, Mizuki was not an idiot—at least not in theory.

"That's it," he snapped, wondering why there was cold sweat trickling down his back. "I think we can continue this on our own. Thank you for everything you've done so far, but we can take things from here. I shall contact headquarters. For all we know, we don't need the dragon anymore."

For a long moment, Kirihara said nothing. His face was turned slightly towards the sea so that Mizuki couldn't read his expression, obscured by light and wind and shadows.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that."

"What?"

Then the crimson eyes were staring into his again and everything—the light and sound and smells—was fading away. And somewhere, people were screaming.

*

"So, how long does this last?" Momo asked, crouching so that he could study the marks Fuji had pained on his forehead in his reflection in a shallow pool. "It won't wash off or anything? What did you put in this stuff anyway?"

Fuji didn't pause in his work, dabbing the bright blue paint onto Shinji's face. "It'll last for a good two hours, but I can't guarantee more than that. It'll start washing off as the spell wears off."

"Right," Inui muttered, fiddling with his pocket watch. "Two hours… If we don't find anything in an hour, I'll signal so we can head back here."

Ryoma cocked his head slightly and glanced sidelong at Fuji as cool paint was dabbed across his forehead. The stuff smelled awful and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. "You know I don't need a spell to breathe underwater right?"

"I guessed as much," the magician murmured back, "but it's for the appearances of the thing."

"Couldn't you make it smell a little less at least? I mean, it doesn't have to work."

Fuji chuckled. "Sorry, but we are in a bit of a hurry right? And anyways, I prefer to be thorough."

When the last rune had been drawn, they gathered in the shallows with the water rushing about their knees, staring down into the murky tunnel.

"I've got the map," Sanada muttered, checking his coat. "Made sure my pockets were waterproof a long time ago so it should be fine."

Kamio drew in a deep, slightly nervous breath and let it out again in a deep sigh. "I guess I'll go first then?"

"No, I'll go first," Ryoma interrupted. And before anyone could object, he took a step forward, took a deep breath that seemed almost too dramatic, and dove.

*

"So that is it, is it?"

Oshitari nodded. "By all accounts, that's the navy vessel that's been following the rumors on the whole Heart of the Sea business. I think they've been hunting our…friends…from the Seigaku crew as well. I'm getting some odd vibes from it though."

From where he was crouched on his other side, Shishido snorted. "It seems empty to me. Looks like they decided to hit the town for today."

"I still think we should watch it a while longer before making our move." But when Oshitari looked at Atobe for comfirmation, the captin had already gone. He cursed and ran after him towards the ship.

Atobe stepped onto the deck of the dark ship, surveying its mistys misty sails and silvery netting with keen interest. The vessel rocked gently beneath his boots with the swell and fall of the ocean beneath it. As far as he could tell, that same ocean was the only thing making any movements. "This place is empty. It feels like it was abandoned."

Running a finger along the railing, Oshitari grimaced. "This place is saturated with magical residue. I don't like it at all."

"Search the rooms," Atobe ordered, striding towards the captain's cabin. "Kabaji, keep watch."

"What are we looking for?"

"Anything that looks interesting. Exercise your judgment." The captain smirked. "And once our guest arrives, we can start tracking this missing crew."

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AN: Thanks for reading and please review!


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